A Good Soldier
by Slayne22
Summary: Pre-Joe story. Sgt. Wayne Sneeden trains an attractive recruit at a Central American Covert-Ops camp. Her name? Corporal Alison Hart-Burnett. Final chapter added. Now complete!
1. Camp X

A Good Soldier--chapter one By Slayne  
  
Rated R for language and adult situations  
  
11/19/02--- I revised and edited this whole story after learning of some military errors I made in it. My older stories will be left as is, but I decided to change this one. I'm still learning, but I do strive to be as military-accurate as my current knowledge and G.I. Joe will allow!  
  
Summary- This is a PRE-JOE story. Staff Sergeant Wayne Sneeden (Beach Head) is training a   
group of covert ops recruits in the Jungles of Central America. What happens   
when the stoic, regulations obssessed, Ranger meets an attractive recruit under   
his command? What about when that recruit is Corporal Alison Hart-Burnett?  
  
Disclaimer- I don't own the Joes. I don't profit from writing about the Joes.   
Just for fun. I DO own Major William Elias and Staff Sergeant Brad   
Greengrass...heh...mine all mine!  
  
Notes- This was an idea that Robin gave me and asked me to write for a friend of   
hers. It is cartoon continuity, not comic book, but I always write Beach Head as   
a mix of the two with my own ideas of how he should be portrayed thrown in. I   
wrote LJ the same way, but she's probably mostly 'Bard's LJ' than anything else,   
as I have a hard time seeing LJ as anything else. I hope Bard takes that as the   
compliment it's meant to be! :-)  
  
Since Beach Head has an open history, I invented lots of it for him. It's NOT   
canon nor has any of it been mentioned anywhere that I've seen. I'm sure the new   
comic series will eventually do a story on him and shoot it all to hell, lol!  
  
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The evening sunlight was just starting to fade as night came to 'Camp X'   
somewhere deep and hidden in the jungles of Central America. The American   
covert-ops training camp was beginning to wind down for the day. It didn't   
always. Much training was done at night, but not this night. A group of soldiers   
stood in a group in a small clearing at the end of an obstacle course. They   
watched as a female soldier struggled at the beginning of the course...an   
instructor standing alongside her. Staff Sergeant Wayne Sneeden, the instructor,   
bellowed at her for a long, long two minutes straight as she struggled to pull   
herself up a rope. Then...just to be sure she got the point, he got in her face   
half-way down and let her have it again. The woman blinked as if he had spit in   
her eye...and maybe he had, when you screamed enough, you tended to do that, but   
she didn't weaken and kept plodding on. Wayne was privately impressed.  
  
He stood six feet tall in his boots. Enough to be considered 'tall', but there   
were plenty of men who stood above him. His power was in his bulk. A power and   
an attitude that tended to either intimidate the men above him or irritate them.   
He just plain frightened the rookies. Wide shoulders and deep chest that tapered   
to a lean waist and legs. He lifted weights regularly and was thickly muscled.   
His early morning runs had reduced the fat in his body to near none and gave him   
a stamina and quickness that was often underestimated by opponents. He got an   
immense sense of satisfaction from keeping his body prime. The same way he felt   
pride in a job well done...or a mission completed successfully. Anything worth   
doing was worth doing well. He lived by that motto.  
  
And he preferred others to live by that motto as well...even if they weren't   
particularly inclined to do so. He could be very convincing when he wished. It   
was probably one of the reasons he had been chosen to help run this camp.   
That...and his willingness to bark orders at soldiers who outranked him. His   
usual position as an advisor/observer at the nearby American Covert-Ops school   
was temporarily suspended so he could be a part of this 'special' training camp.   
He didn't know what would happen to the soldiers who made it through this camp,   
he hadn't been privy to that information. The camp was meant to be a covert-ops   
training and evaluation camp. Most of the soldiers picked for it had already had   
extensive training in other fields. A few officers but mostly grunts. Wayne   
suspected they didn't want anyone too set in their ways already. The brass just   
wanted a tough and very physically intensive covert-ops camp that would weed the   
worst of the best from the recruits they had chosen to attend. And when they   
wanted a rough and intense test...they called Wayne.  
  
He glanced up at the end of the course and saw Will jogging towards him. He   
broke away from the woman and ran to meet the Major. Major William Elias was a   
big man in his mid- thirties. He was tall and broad, with a short blond crew cut   
and light blue eyes. He had a deep and forceful voice that he used with talent   
to get soldiers to 'snap to', and his glare could match Wayne's. Wayne had known   
him for years and had been pleasantly surprised, although he would never show   
it, to see him here and work with him again.  
  
"Look Wayne...she's gonna be a while. I'm going to take the rest of the men back   
to camp and get them to mess." He had a strong southern accent from growing up   
in neighboring Georgia from Wayne's own Alabama. Wayne's own accent had tempered   
over the years and grown somewhat softer.  
  
"Alright," Wayne glanced at the woman struggling through a short sand trough.   
"I'll stay with her...she'll get through."  
  
"If you say so...come and have a beer when you get her squared away. You don't   
have to stay in your room every night reading those damn field manuals."  
  
Wayne shrugged at the Major. "I'll be there...if I'm not carrying her to the   
infirmary." He jerked a thumb towards the woman to emphasize his point.  
  
"Alright...carry on, Staff Sergeant!" Will smiled at him and returned his salute with   
that good-natured, shit-eating grin of his and pivoted to return to the group of   
soldiers waiting at the end of the course. Wayne returned to the woman, lifting   
a hand to the other Staff Sergeant of the Camp, Brad Greengrass, who   
was walking in the distance, heading for the ammo shed. Greengrass was also an   
old aquaintence, although not as well known as Will. The young Native American   
was die-hard military and loved beach volleyball, of all things. He volunteered   
for every shit job in the Army trying to stay out of the United States because   
he found it too boring to work stateside. He was also Airborne Ranger and was   
used heavily in Covert- ops, Wayne suspected. The easy going, always affable   
Greengrass had a fierce hardness about him that only combat produced. He also   
didn't tolerate prejudice of any kind.  
  
Wayne quieted as the woman in front of him ran down the sand-filled track. He   
trotted beside her, watching her carefully.  
  
"Come on, Burnett...make me proud!" He called. In truth...he was surprised she   
was still here after one week. She had been one of three women that had arrived   
with the group of men. He and Will had gone through the files with smirks and   
shakes of their heads. They could tell by files alone who would not make it   
through. At least...they had thought so.  
  
Corporal Alison Hart-Burnett's file had gone immediately to the 'forget about   
it' pile. Rich society girl joins the Army. Has trouble in boot camp but   
persists. And what was with the javelins?  
  
"She must really hate mommy and daddy." Will had remarked, grinning at Wayne.   
Wayne had shrugged and silently agreed. That was usually why rich girls joined   
the military. Unless they went to college and officer's school and became   
officers. But this one had joined the enlisted ranks. Trying to prove something?   
He wanted to dismiss her, but...she had an already impressive list of training   
schools...and she got better with every one. She was accepted into Intelligence   
and possessed a more than suitable background. Every instructor she had had was   
impressed with her.  
  
"Well...any woman wants this gig...they better be just as good as the men. More   
so, in fact. Or I'll send them home to daddy crying through their make-up." Will   
had stated firmly. Wayne had snorted in response and given a rare smile. He   
tended to agree with Will, and most of the old-school military, that women did   
not belong here. But he had met a few women who had deftly sewn seeds of doubt   
into that theory. Although he would never support any person who was put into   
position purely by color of skin or gender. Not when lives were at stake. Never.  
  
As the Major had called out roll the first day, Wayne had stood at one end of   
the column of assorted officers and enlisted men...and the three women. When a   
woman's voice had answered the call for 'Burnett'! He had found himself studying   
the young woman. She was rather tall and slender, with a solid base of muscle   
giving her curves and a healthy appearance. She had short brown hair that did   
NOT make her appear masculine, as it did one of her female counterparts standing   
beside her. She stood at rigid attention and answered strongly in a pleasant,   
lilting voice that seemed to have the hint of an accent in it. Wayne was not   
sure why this strong, attractive appearance surprised him. Perhaps only because   
he had been an instructor for the Army for some time now, and he had taught his   
share of women, both in boot camp and the more specialized Ranger School at   
Benning. It was rare to face one so full of confidence that it shone through in   
everything about them. Of course, her file had stated that her school history   
involved intensive acting experience. But under duress like this...it would take   
more than that to fake it.  
  
She had lived up to that head-held-high stance. The first week was designed to   
be simply, a living hell. The recruits were run through one obstacle course   
after another, non-stop. They were run in the morning before breakfast and often   
at night after dinner. Food was often MRE's of the worst flavor, and sleep was   
interrupted and held off. It was designed to force out the weakest members who   
could not tolerate harsh combat conditions. There was no point in even starting   
to train those men who couldn't hack it. It had worked. The first few days had   
forced 4 men to their knees and then out of the camp. One of the women went with   
them. She had broken under Will's harsh voice in her face as he had screamed at   
her in that slightly hoarse voice of his.  
  
Burnett, on the other hand, stood rigid and unyielding as both Wayne and Will   
had set upon her like rabid pit-bulls after she had tripped during the morning   
run. They had deliberately over-reacted and tore into her like ravenous bears   
devouring a rabbit. It was meant to be intimidation of the highest sort, and   
covert-ops agents, especially those destined for Intelligence, would have to   
take it. Burnett had set her jaw and taken every word with a set and sullen look   
on her face. Her only reaction was a hard swallow as Will had screamed a comment   
about her 'not being in daddy's house anymore'. She had answered in a strong   
voice that didn't quaver or shake, and jumped to do the push-ups Will had   
ordered with eagerness. Wayne had felt a rivelet of something strange for her   
that day. Respect. Especially when two of the men broke and quit the camp after   
similar attacks by the two instructors. The other remaining woman had tried, but   
couldn't keep up with the others and had finally collapsed one day in   
exhaustion. She was given her pinkslip and a free ride back to her unit the next   
day.  
  
Burnett was now the only woman in camp, except for the two female officers that   
the Army had insisted be there as long as one female recruit remained. They   
tended to ignore the Corporal though and spent the time working on other   
projects or occasionally flirting with Greengrass.  
  
"Come on, Burnett! This isn't one of your society lawn parties! Run!" Wayne   
barked at the woman struggling down the sand pit. Her eyes flashed an irritated   
look at him that almost made him smile. She hated the remarks about her family's   
wealth and position. Which was exactly why he and Will focused on it. Sweat ran   
in rivers down her face and darkened her BDU. Her face was a mask of   
determination and fatigue. She fell forward once and nearly growled in   
frustration as she leapt back to her feet and began running again. Actually, she   
was doing quite well...especially considering that this was her second trip down   
this obstacle course tonight. The others had done one trip and that was all that   
was required, but Burnett had run into problems. In all groups where there are   
women present, there are men who dislike it and men who have no problem with it.   
Then...there are the men who feel mistakenly obligated to help the female. And   
Burnett had two of these 'knights in shining armor' who, in their attempts to   
help her and win her approval, only managed to trip her up and irritate the hell   
out of her. She wanted no part of their assistance, and Wayne had watched with   
growing concern as she had repeatedly tried to escape their 'help' and do it   
herself. The fire in her eyes had eventually become too big to contain and Wayne   
had stepped in before she blew and alienated the only two allies she had in the   
camp.  
  
"Burnett! Do you have a problem doing this course by yourself?" He had shouted,   
glaring.  
  
"No sir!" She had answered loudly, her glare dark and malevolent. The two   
'knights', one a young Second Lieutenant straight out of West Point, had begun to   
interrupt and Will had stepped in and blasted them as well, shouting them down   
and sending them on their way down the course. Wayne would have had no problem   
blasting the officers himself...but they probably would have had a problem with   
it. They had to listen to him here, despite his lower rank, but he couldn't go   
all out on them. He left that to Will.  
  
Wayne had then ordered Burnett to finish the course and then do it over again.   
By herself this time. It had driven the message home to the two officers to   
leave her alone and yet would hopefully keep them as acting body guards for the   
young Corporal. Even on stateside, well-run Army bases, bad things sometimes   
happened to female soldiers. This was a remote shithole deep in Central America.   
The participants were carefully chosen, but still...  
  
Burnett finally crossed the finish line and gasped to a stop, bending at the   
waist to grip her knees and stare down at the ground, panting heavily. Wayne   
stood beside her and studied her time. She had actually gained time without her   
two heroes interfering. He glanced down at her as she rested, giving her time to   
catch her breath now that the rest of the group was gone. The brown hair was wet   
and curled over and behind her ears then stuck to the nape of her neck. Her   
olive drab t-shirt was soaked with sweat and clung to her narrow, furrowed back.   
Wayne's eyes followed the curve of that back towards her hips and then he tore   
his gaze away with annoyance. What the hell was the matter with him? She was a   
very attractive woman, but...he had much more discipline then this.  
  
"You did better without the help, Burnett."  
  
She pulled herself up to standing and glanced into his brown eyes.  
  
"I didn't want their help, Staff!" she insisted vehemently.  
  
"Good. Everyone gets through this camp on their own."  
  
"And I will too, Staff Sergeant." she said with an edge to her voice. He felt a small   
sense of wonder and satisfaction at that tone. Why was she here? What gave her   
that edge, that desire to succeed in the enlisted ranks of the Army? She was an   
enigma that he found himself growing more curious about everyday.  
  
He walked her back to barracks. She basically had one whole building to herself.   
The two female officers took the seperate rooms in the front of the building   
that were originally meant for drill instructors. He wondered briefly, as he   
dismissed her and she walked towards the run-down building, if she was lonely   
here...or if, like him, had learned to deal with and eventually savor the   
solitary life. He hadn't spoken much to her, except to yell or order her around.   
He had discussed her military training with her over MREs on the trail one   
morning. Her softly accented voice was low in pitch and tone and made everything   
she said sound serious. Her green eyes had held his own with self-assurance and   
a practiced interest. It had made him hold her gaze for a split-second too long,   
much to his frustration, but she had simply smiled and gone on with the   
conversation without a beat.  
  
She had gone to Benning for Ranger School as well. That had intriqued him. Very   
few women made it through the school. She hadn't gone through when he was   
instructing there, he'd have remembered her. He had asked a few questions of her   
as they discussed it. He'd even drawn a slight smile out of her with some quip   
he'd made. He wasn't completely without a sense of humor after all. But then the   
break had been over and he'd had to switch to 'hardass' mode again, getting the   
troop up and moving and jumping on their mistakes with violent zeal.  
  
He had not been able to keep his gaze from falling on the female Corporal again   
and again though. He was noticing things about her that he had never noticed on   
any woman...especially a recruit under his instruction. Little things, like how   
her hair curled over her ears, or the expressions on her face as she faced   
another recruit in hand-to-hand combat. He was dimly aware in some part of his   
conciousness that he was doing something he had never done in all his years as   
an instructor. He was playing favorites and allowing one recruit to draw his   
attention. In his annoyance at himself for falling into it, he was also aware   
that he was being harder on her than any of the others. It had been no problem   
for him to avoid this trap all these years. Why now was he finding it different?   
Why her?  
  
TBC....... ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 


	2. Inner peace

A Good Soldier- Chapter Two By Slayne  
  
Note on this chapter-- I was challenged by a fan to actually use the correct   
term of 'balaclava' for Beach Head's mask in a fic, lol! We actually had a nice   
little conversation about why I use 'mask' instead of balaclava (because it's a   
foreign word that a lot of people don't understand, and all the guys I know in   
the military tell me they all just call it a mask) But...in the end...I agreed   
to use it occasionally! So this is for you, Bill...hope you're happy!  
  
And thanks to Scarlett_Hauser for catching my bad in this chapter. (You've   
always got my back, girl!)  
  
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Wayne walked back to his own quarters, a small room with its own   
bathroom next to a few others. He took a cold shower because there was rarely   
any other kind here, and then re-dressed in a set of BDU greens minus the   
button-up shirt. The humidity made the clean shirt stick to his body again   
almost immediately. It didn't bother him. He'd endured worse...and could endure   
more. A t-shirt was fine for evening hours here and the camp was small enough   
and casual enough that everyone knew his rank. Besides, they had decided to give   
the group the evening off and then wake them far before dawn to get them on the   
trail for a daylong exercise. Evaluations were drawn up on how they handled   
everything. Even off-hours. He strapped his .45 pistol to his shoulder. Local   
guerilla fighters and various gangs who ran drugs did roam sometimes through the   
jungles. They knew the camp was there and that it held enough various munitions   
to make them wealthy or help them sufficiently in their cause.  
  
He glanced in a small mirror over his sink and ran a hand over the late-day   
growth of dark reddish -brown beard that covered his jaw. He'd shave tomorrow.   
He'd gotten a haircut right before reporting for duty here and his dark brown   
hair was shaved close at the sides and back and left slightly longer and   
bristle-stiff on the top.  
  
He strapped his bowie knife to his thigh and then stuffed the green balaclava he   
sometimes wore on missions in his belt. Being prepared was the number one rule   
around here. This wasn't stateside America...it was a foreign country and not   
always a peaceful one at that.  
  
There were a few people still in mess when he went in to get his dinner. It was   
late though, and he nearly ended up missing it and eating MREs. He took the tray   
of grayish strings of meat mixed in with pasty mashed potatoes and some sort of   
watery gravy and sat down by himself in one corner. He eagerly dug in and   
spooned the mess into his mouth. Flavor and taste were concerns that he deemed   
inconsequential and unimportant. Army food was meant to keep an active body   
going and that's what it did. He scanned the room while he ate and saw Burnett   
sitting in the opposite corner from him. A small group of officers sat between   
them obscuring his view, but he caught glimpses of her occasionally.  
  
She sat alone, her half eaten tray of food in front of her, reading a book. He   
gazed curiously at her. Her hair was now dry and combed neatly back although it   
had a natural untidiness that seemed unplanned. Strands tended to grow this way   
and that and it fell in her eyes repeatedly. It was probably outside of army   
regs, but he found he had no desire to correct her on it. He couldn't see the   
title of the book, but had seen her reading the well-worn paperback more than   
once. What was so interesting or...comforting...in that book that she carted it   
around with her and read it often? She seemed at ease there and occasionally   
picked at the remainder of her meal. She had dropped some weight, he thought,   
along with the others, but otherwise seemed to be taking good care of herself,   
so he wasn't worried about her finishing the meal. He paused then and growled   
quietly before shoving a forkful of meat into his mouth and chewing with   
consternation. Why was he worried about her at all? This wasn't boot camp and   
she wasn't some new recruit fresh off the streets. She was a Corporal with   
extensive training and a proven track record. She was on a bullet train in   
Intelligence and was proving herself capable to every test so far. But...he   
found his gaze straying over to her with or without his permission all through   
the relatively short meal. A few days ago, they'd had an interesting   
conversation that still enveloped his thoughts.  
  
He had risen at his usual early time, always before everyone else. He'd quickly   
dressed and then gone for his morning run. Once he'd gotten out of boot camp and   
had a little more freedom and control over his free time, it had become a ritual   
with him. He liked being up when no one else was and running through pre-dawn   
darkness. It was quiet and he could think about things. Like what level of hell   
he would run the recruits through that day. Two were gone already. One of the   
women, one of the men. He was sure the other two women would be gone soon. Maybe   
today. He had smiled at that. It wasn't that he thought women couldn't do a good   
job in the military. On the contrary, he thought they had their place here, just   
not in a combat position. It distracted the men, brought out that protective   
streak that sometimes made them stupid. And perhaps that spoke of the failings   
of men rather than the failings of women, but it was reality and that's all   
there was to it.  
  
When he'd jogged back into the camp and slowed himself to a walk, the sky was   
beginning to lighten and the base was engulfed in a deep blue dawn. He'd pulled   
his shirt off and walked slowly around the small base as his muscles cooled and   
his breath slowed. He'd take in an hour of weight training as well today, but   
later. The base had a few old sets of free weights in the makeshift gym that was   
really a storage shed. It was hot and it smelled like shit, but he didn't care.   
It was about keeping yourself prime and pride in being a good soldier, not about   
comfort. He wiped the sweat from his face and chest with his shirt.  
  
He was about to head for a completely useless shower, when he looked left and   
saw Corporal Burnett sitting outside of her barracks. What the...? He walked   
towards her. She was sitting cross-legged in the grass behind the women's   
barracks, facing out towards the jungle. Her eyes were closed. He approached her   
quietly, but she opened her eyes calmly when he stood in front of her. He   
watched her eyes travel up his legs and then widen slightly as they saw he was   
shirtless. He wondered if she thought he was attractive...and then wondered   
where the hell THAT thought had come from. Her eyes met his and she started to   
rise. He put his hand out.  
  
"At ease, Corporal. You've got 45 minutes before I put you through hell again.   
Relax."  
  
A corner of her mouth tugged upwards and she sank back to her rear on the   
ground. "Thank you, Staff."  
  
"What are you doing out here?" He asked, suddenly very curious. She held his   
gaze indecisively and then sighed.  
  
"I'm...just getting myself ready for the day. I know it will be tough, and it's   
quiet and peaceful right now. I'm just trying to get some of that peacefulness   
inside of me before it starts."  
  
It wasn't as crazy as it sounded. Isn't that what he did every morning with his   
run? He studied her for a moment. Truthfully, he had thought she'd be the first   
to leave this training session. Despite the comments, training and progress   
reports that contradicted that belief in her records, he had thought she would   
be the first to throw in the towel.  
  
"You're not one of those new-age hippies are you, Burnett?" He glared   
suspiciously at her. That brought a real smile to her face and her green eyes   
sparkled up at him in good humor. He felt his mouth run dry, and a tiny rivulet   
of anger towards himself and his reaction to her wormed its way through his gut.  
  
"No," she answered him. "I just like to get all my priorities straight before I   
face the day."  
  
"Huh...well, don't lose too much sleep. You're not flying so easily through this   
course that you can afford to slack-off physically." In fact, from the first few   
days of exercises, she wasn't flying easily through anything. She was having   
difficulties. He gave her a stern nod and began to turn to walk away when she   
replied.  
  
"Can we cut the bullshit here for a moment, Staff Sergeant?"  
  
He was genuinely surprised at that, and he stared at her for a moment before   
stepping back and standing over her, looking down. It was a stance that   
intimidated male soldiers, especially if he made them sit on the ground, when   
their instincts told them to rise and face him. It didn't seem to bother her.   
She leaned back on her hands and tilted her head to look up at him.  
  
"This is not an easy training program for me. I think we both realize that after   
only a few days. I'm struggling through everyday of it, despite my success in   
Ranger school and other programs. As a Ranger, I'm sure you can appreciate what   
it took to get through that training." She paused and he frowned. What did she   
want him to say? Where was this leading? Was she quitting? He tried to push away   
the sense of disappointment in that thought. If she couldn't cut it, she   
couldn't cut it.  
  
"Ranger training was the hardest thing I ever did outside of combat   
missions...and I loved every second of it." He admitted to her in a strong   
voice.  
  
She nodded as if she had suspected that all along. "Well then...you'll   
appreciate that while I am struggling through your physical stress tests   
here...I love Covert Ops...and it's something I am pursuing with a passion.   
Whatever I need to do to get through this course...I'll do, whether it means   
losing sleep or even doing without it altogether. It's more mental than   
physical, everyone knows that. It's all a test of your mental toughness and   
capabilities. The physical stress just taxes your mental state that much more."  
  
He just stared down at her, his mind considering all she had just said. Not   
quitting...no, not at all. She was telling him she intended to get through this   
course no matter what it took, even if she had to crawl through the last week to   
do it. He felt a sense of wonder as he considered her. He had never met a woman   
like this in the military before. Nor outside of it either.  
  
"You need physical toughness too, Corporal. If you're captured by the enemy,   
you'd better be tough enough to survive their interrogations and long   
imprisonment in harsh conditions. They won't lock you away in a country club,   
you know."  
  
He loved that irritated look that flashed through her eyes.  
  
"Yes sir...but I'm prepared to put every ounce of myself into this. Even if it   
kills me."  
  
He wasn't sure if it was wealthy arrogance or plain old self-confidence she was   
showing, but it brought out the bastard in him. He lowered himself to his heels   
in front of her and pinned her with his piercing, drill- sergeant's glare.  
  
"Well...it just might, Corporal. If not here, then later. There's a very good   
chance you'll end up dead on a mission. Even more so because you're a woman."  
  
"That shouldn't be a factor...I..."  
  
"But it is, Corporal." He cut her off. "Whether it 'should' or not makes no   
difference. I don't give free rides through my training camps. Everyone is   
expected to do the same amount of work. If you, as a woman, aren't able to   
complete that work, then I'll cut you. I respect the amount of effort you're   
willing to put into this, but sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you're just   
not good enough. And that's the goddamned truth."  
  
He had stood and walked away, leaving her to stare after him. He snapped back to   
the present.  
  
Wayne stared across the room at the female Corporal and then rose quickly and   
took his empty tray to add to the pile of dirty ones already on a table. He   
glanced at her as he walked past and found her eyes on him, studying him. He met   
her gaze briefly before setting the empty tray down and walking from the   
building without a second glance. He wondered if her gaze followed him out.  
  
The evening was in full darkness when he exited the mess hall. There was a   
quarter moon and the stars were bright and very visible in the black sky. The   
ever-present heat and humidity closed around him but brought a slight breeze to   
his skin that was lacking in the unairconditioned buildings. Whirring insects   
sang loudly from the jungle and the brush inside the camp. He walked slowly   
towards the dilapidated building that served as a general bar and officer's   
club. It was not off-limits to anyone in the camp. The officers had to share   
with the enlisted men and the recruits were allowed to drink as well. It was all   
part of the training camp. How they dealt with the social interactions and the   
responsibility of alcohol was important. It was the way Wayne thought it should   
be all over the military, not just here...in this distant little hole in the   
ground that no one knew about.  
  
He had grown up in the Deep South in Auburn, Alabama. His family was well below   
the poverty level and even more so after his mother had left them and moved away   
when he was 9. His father was a stern, serious retired Sergeant who served early   
and briefly in Vietnam and came home without the use of his right leg. But even   
with the treatment of 'Nam Vets by American citizens at that time and the   
subsequent desertion of them by Wayne's mother, the man had never sank into deep   
depression or drug use or any other coping mechanism. 'When you're a man, you   
act like it.' His father's words echoed within him. Wayne embraced that same   
honor and responsibility. His father had died several years ago and he often   
wondered if the man had seen his son standing in his dress uniform at the   
funeral.  
  
He had an older sister that he wasn't close to. She had to hold a job down   
through high school and wasn't around much when he was in elementary school.   
They spoke on holidays and he sent the occasional letter, but for the most   
part...she had her own family and they had very separate lives. And that was   
fine with him.  
  
He even talked to his mother now and then. She had remarried and moved to Baton   
Rouge with her new husband. He had visited one Christmas after he had joined up,   
and his lingering resentment over her abandonment along with her view of him as   
'just like your father' had made it uncomfortable and combative. He'd left   
early, probably to everyone's relief including his own. He was happy here in the   
Army on his own. He had goals and a job to do. Family and friends tended to   
obscure that goal and distract you from your job.  
  
He walked into the makeshift base bar and automatically stepped to the left. The   
officers, who wished to stay separate from the enlisted men, usually   
commandeered the far right of the room. They sat in a big group around a few   
mismatched tables that were pulled together. A small group of recruits sat in   
another group at the other end of the room. As Wayne eased himself onto a stool,   
a man broke away from the group of officers and walked towards him.  
  
"You made it, I'll be damned!" said Will as he clapped Wayne on the shoulder and   
slid onto the stool next to him. Wayne just nodded and accepted the beer that   
the civilian bartender sat in front of him.  
  
"Gracias." Wayne nodded at the man, who nodded back and turned back to his   
duties.  
  
"You seen Greengrass tonight?" Will asked and Wayne glanced at him.  
  
"Yeah...he was headed towards the ammo shed. Probably checking the guard. That   
was earlier though, right after you headed back with the men."  
  
"How'd she do?" Will asked with a smirk.  
  
Wayne wasn't sure why that smirk sent a surge of annoyance through him. He'd   
always found it amusing before. He and William Elias had gone to Ranger School   
together. Wayne had been a young Corporal and Will had been fresh from officer's   
school and had a shiny new Lieutenant's bar on his collar. Wayne would normally   
have ignored the officers, except for the obligatory salute, but Will had been   
different. He had not had the stuffy indifference or haughty,   
testosterone-driven ego that so many officers had, especially when fresh out of   
the gate.  
  
"She did good. Better than she did with those two snot-nosed Lieutenants all   
over her."  
  
Will took a swallow of beer and glanced at him with a grin. "Ah well...we'll get   
her out of here yet."  
  
They joked often about women in the military, at least when Greengrass wasn't   
around. Wayne didn't think either of them really meant it. It was just talk   
between men.  
  
"I don't know," Wayne shook his head and tilted his glass to look down at the   
cheap, warm light colored beer in his glass. "She's really taking it. I'd have   
given good money that she'd be the first gone before I met her, but now..."  
  
"Pff. Give her time...don't tell me the great 'he-man woman-hater' of the Army   
is going soft on a recruit?"  
  
Wayne glanced sidelong at the Major. "I don't hate women, Will."  
  
"Yeah...you certainly didn't hate that woman we met in San Antonio on leave two   
years ago."  
  
Wayne winced and squeezed his eyes shut. "Jesus...don't bring that up again! I'd   
have been fine if you hadn't fed me that goddamned hill hooch that your brother   
brought you from home."  
  
Will laughed and took a half-smoked cigar from his shirt pocket, lighting the   
tip and inhaling with a sigh. "Man...I have NEVER seen a sight funnier than you   
trying to 'get down' with that dirty-dancing disco queen!"  
  
"God, don't remind me!"  
  
"Aw! She took you home and did you up right, didn't she?"  
  
"Yes, but I don't remember much of it." And he hadn't touched another drop of   
that moonshine, nor did he ever have more than two beers when he went out after   
that. He didn't like not remembering things like that. He didn't like knowing he   
was out of control.  
  
"You got the plans all set for tonight?" Wayne asked him, trying to change the   
subject. Will glanced at him knowingly but nodded and let it go.  
  
"Yes. We get them up at three and march them out. They can eat MREs on the trail   
and fight the insects. We'll sleep out on the trail and then march them back   
next morning. Nothing they haven't faced before."  
  
"Riiight..." Wayne agreed, favoring him with that rarely used smile once again.   
He was glad Will had been assigned to this camp. They had kept in touch after   
Benning and even took leave together twice afterwards. When Wayne had been   
chosen for this assignment and he'd arrived, thinking of obstacle course plans   
and wondering how he was going to deal with the officer in charge, he'd come   
here to have a beer and wait. He'd been shocked as hell when a hand had clamped   
down on his shoulder and a stern voice had ordered.  
  
"Don't you salute your superiors, boy?"  
  
He'd jumped up, thinking he'd missed a bar or an oak leaf somewhere on someone   
and found himself facing his old friend, Captain William Elias. Only now not a   
Captain, but a Major.  
  
"Will!" he'd exclaimed as he'd snapped a salute off. Will wouldn't have demanded   
it from him he knew, but there were other officers standing in the room, and   
Wayne would not deny him that sign of respect in front of the others, whether   
Will cared or not. They had grinned at each other and sat down for a beer and   
hours of reminiscing. Will was physically big and mentally outgoing and could be   
intimidating in every way possible when he wished. But he was also just a 'good   
ole boy' to his friends and didn't sweat the small stuff when it came to rank or   
position...unless you pissed him off or talked down to him. Another voice pulled   
him back to the present again.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Both of the men looked up and saw Brad Greengrass walking in the door. The Staff   
Sergeant glanced towards the circle of officers, sending a smile towards one of   
the female Lieutenants. Will and Wayne glanced at each other meaningfully, and   
Brad pulled a chair up to sit facing them. He waved off the beer that Will   
offered and took his boonie hat off, revealing thick, stiff black hair.  
  
"Everything set for tonight?" He asked and looked at Will.  
  
"Yeah...Be outside the barracks at oh three hundred sharp."  
  
"Yes sir." Brad grinned.  
  
Will motioned vaguely towards the circle of officers. "That Lieutenant wants to   
get in your teepee, Greengrass."  
  
Wayne snorted and Brad shook his head, smiling good-naturedly. "Teepees are the   
plains tribes, Will...I'm Ho-Chunk....no teepees."  
  
"Yeah, well, whatever it is, she wants in."  
  
"No way...it goes bad, and I'm the one who gets discharged."  
  
"Nah...Happens all the time..." Will looked at Wayne. "What was the name of that   
Captain that had her sights set on you again, Wayne?"  
  
Wayne almost spit his beer out. His head jerked up and he glared at Will.   
"Jesus, Will...tell the whole place. And I don't remember!"  
  
Will grinned and looked at Brad. "Oh man...you should have seen it. We were both   
at Benning and she was drooling all over muscle man here. Liked to slum-it, I   
guess. She could have had any officer she wanted and she was chasing after a   
newly promoted Sergeant."  
  
Brad laughed and glanced doubtfully at Wayne. "Don't tell me you..."  
  
"No!" Wayne growled.  
  
"I still don't know why you didn't grab a piece of that. She was fine!"  
  
"Because it's against regulations, bonehead...I like this job, I'm not eager to   
get booted."  
  
Will snorted. "All she wanted was some fun, Sneeden. You'd have had no   
problems."  
  
"It's still against regs, Will...besides, she wanted me to put on a drill   
sergeant's hat and order her to su..." The rest was drowned out in laughter and   
Wayne shook his head, smiling faintly.  
  
Will wiped his eyes and sighed. "You have an incredible sense of honor, Sneeden.   
More than half the officers I know."  
  
"I'm sure that's not true." Wayne sipped his beer.  
  
"You'd be surprised."  
  
"Well, then...I hope that's not true. It's different if a PFC, who's just   
starting out, fucks up, but when an officer does it, then it just pisses me off.   
They should know better. It makes us all look bad, not to mention the Army."  
  
"For God's sake, Wayne...we don't have to listen to one of your awful lectures   
now, do we?" Brad laughed and Wayne just shook his head. He just didn't   
understand why anyone would put their rank at risk like that. Especially after   
they'd made the decision to go career.  
  
"Oh...did you get the lectures too?" Will asked Brad, laughing. "I was getting   
them all the way back in Ranger training school."  
  
Brad grinned, his black eyes fastening on Wayne. "Christ...that's all I heard on   
patrol when we were out on missions. You gotta learn to keep your mouth shut,   
pal."  
  
Wayne shot him the middle finger. "There...that quiet enough for you, Brad?"  
  
Brad looked at Will and laughed. Wayne could take a smart-ass, even like one, as   
long as they were committed and giving 110%. But put a slacker in his   
company...or, god forbid, a whiny and indecisive officer, and Wayne was going to   
have a problem...or rather the offending man was going to have the problem.  
  
"What was that comment that that Colonel made on your evaluation for Airborne   
graduation?" Will asked, looking at Wayne.  
  
"I don't know...something about how 'a little tact goes a long way'." Wayne   
glared and the other two broke into laughs again. They spent the next few hours   
laughing over old history. Wayne didn't even mind being the butt of most of the   
jokes. He felt comfortable with these two brothers-in-arms, and he felt   
comfortable in the army. It was home.  
  
"Hey...remember when you were paired up with that Captain for reconnaissance on   
that nighttime raid in Ranger training?" Will asked. When Wayne nodded, Will   
went on and grinned at Brad. "No one had had more than two hours of sleep in two   
days. The fucking Captain was about as tough as they came and he and Wayne had   
to go out and recon the enemy position. It's oh three hundred and dark and   
raining. They're vulnerable to attack at any time and they even know someone is   
gonna try it. So it's all tense and the Captain is sweating bullets. Wayne here   
actually starts singing to himself. What was the song?"  
  
Wayne thought about it. "I think it was Ring of Fire."  
  
Brad rolled his eyes and grimaced. Wayne thought about shooting him the finger   
again but resisted. Will continued.  
  
"He really freaked that Captain out, cause when they got back the guy went   
straight to the Colonel and said, 'That fucker SANG the whole time we were on   
the trail. He thought we were on a fucking moonlight stroll on the beach!'. The   
Colonel just shrugged and said Wayne had a cool head and that that wasn't   
bad."  
  
"Christ! And then all the guys called me Beach Head for the rest of training.   
Thank God that nickname didn't stick with me." Wayne grimaced as the others   
laughed. They stayed later than planned and finally left when the officer's   
group broke-up and the ranking Colonel shot them a stern look.  
  
Wayne walked back to his quarters feeling better than he had in a long time. He   
was exactly where he wanted to be and doing exactly what he wanted to be doing.   
Now...if he could just figure out why Corporal Burnett kept finding her way into   
his mind, he'd be just fine.  
  
TBC..............  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 


	3. The trail

A Good Soldier- Chapter 3  
  
By Slayne  
  
notes- thanks to Bard for pointing me in the right direction...she knows what   
i'm talking about, and thanks to all of you who have been encouraging me with   
this. I DO appreciate it a ton!  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
Wayne met Will and Brad outside the barracks at three o'clock and they stormed   
the place, waking the soldiers with snarling tenacity and thundering shouts.   
Most of the recruits took it well and adapted quickly. One of the female LT's   
was sent for Burnett, and when the men were finally mustered at attention on the   
lawn, Burnett was already there, standing ready.  
  
They marched the recruits out and onto a nearby trail. The ten-day physical   
regimen would soon give way to exercises that were more war-games in nature and   
less boot camp. One more hard run to make sure they got the point. They didn't   
stop until midmorning for a meal.  
  
Wayne eased himself down on a patch of grass and stirred the MRE. More grey meat   
in sauce. God, he loved it! He glanced up at Burnett sitting across from him.   
She was leaning back against a tree, her MRE finished. She had the worn   
paperback out again and was firmly engrossed in it. He finally read the title.   
'Shakespeare's Sonnets'. Shakespeare? He was mildly surprised as he watched the   
soldier in full combat gear reading the book. But she was still a woman.   
Figures.  
  
"You into poetry, Burnett?" He asked, his voice still sounding hard and a little   
condescending, even though he had tried to soften it a bit.  
  
She glanced up at him and squinted a bit in the sunlight. "Um...I'm into   
Shakespeare anyway."  
  
"Hmm." He swallowed some food. "That's right...you're an 'actress'." He   
emphasized the last word as if it explained everything from her book to her very   
existence.  
  
"Not anymore...now I'm a soldier." She answered, managing to surprise him once   
again. "But I don't have to give everything up I love to be here."  
  
He said nothing to that and she buried her nose in the pages again. He watched   
her for a few long moments, finishing his meal and watching the way the sun made   
her brown hair shine red in places. He was reminded of the way he had found her   
meditating a few days ago. Keeping her inner peace. How had they come from such   
different beginnings and ended up here, together? He remembered what she had   
said about her passion for Covert- Ops, comparing it to his love of Ranger   
School.  
  
He had excelled in boot camp and then gone on to Infantry training, Airborne   
certification, and then Ranger School at Ft. Benning, Georgia. And there he had   
found his true calling. They made him crawl in the mud and run miles in full   
gear in the heat and humidity. The obstacle courses were a living hell designed   
to test your endurance and strength to the limit. The war games were advanced   
and tricky and required split-second thought and fast reflexes. He had loved   
every second of it...all the more because it was difficult and he had had to   
make himself better. They had made him a lean, mean, killing machine and he had   
graduated, once again, at the top of his class. All in all...if there hadn't   
been a few comments recorded about his 'failure to get along with others' and   
'outspokeness bordering on insubordination', his career so far would be   
exemplary. His lack of social skills, however, hadn't prevented them from   
offering him a position at the Ranger School as an instructor. It was there that   
they began sending him on occasional covert missions. Places the U.S. couldn't   
admit to infiltrating. The Jungles of South and Central America, the deserts of   
the Middle East, even the occasional mountainous terrain. He had traded gunfire   
and taken to combat with a calm, cool, determination that had earned him respect   
quickly. He looked back at the Corporal.  
  
"That inner peace of yours keeping your legs from aching, Burnett? How about   
that MRE...does inner peace make it taste better?"  
  
She glanced up at him, her eyes showing over the top of the paperback. He held   
her gaze.  
  
"Give it up." He suddenly urged. She was silent for a moment and then raised her   
chin.  
  
"You'll have to drag me kicking and screaming onto the plane out of here,   
Staff."  
  
He grinned at that. Good girl! There was hope for her yet. He gestured towards   
her book. "Lots of love poems and 'thee's and 'thou's in there?" He asked her   
just to be annoying. Keep her on her toes. Too much inner peace could get you   
killed out here.  
  
She glanced up at him again and fixed him with a steely gaze. He held it and   
suddenly she was reciting one of the sonnets, her gaze not leaving his.  
  
"As an unperfect actor on the stage,  
  
Who with his fear is put beside his part,  
  
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,  
  
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart;  
  
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say  
  
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,  
  
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,  
  
O'ercharg'd with burthen of mine own love's might.  
  
O! let my looks be then the eloquence  
  
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,  
  
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,  
  
More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.  
  
O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:  
  
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit."  
  
He stared at her, speechless. She shut the book and stuffed it back into her   
pack as Will barked out the command to re-group. Wayne stood slowly and took up   
the rear, his gaze finding the back of the slender Corporal time and time again   
as they marched forward. He hadn't been completely sure of the meaning of the   
sonnet. Shakespeare was confusing and took practice to read correctly, but he   
thought he caught the general gist of it, and he wonderd why she had read it to   
him.  
  
They marched the group all day and into the night. They slept out on the trail   
and Will put himself, Wayne and Brad between Burnett and the rest of the group.   
It was hot, humid, and the insects were horrible. Brad woke him up at oh three   
hundred for his watch, and he rose easily and silently, packing his gear and   
leaving it sit while he walked around the perimeter of the small camp and then   
took a lean against a tree, his eyes slicing into the darkness and his ears   
listening for something out of place. Nothing. It was peaceful. His eyes   
reluctantly fell on the small sleeping form a few yards from where Brad was   
fidgeting and trying to get a couple more hours of sleep. What was she doing   
here? Rich family, college education and place in society. What did the Army   
offer her that she wasn't getting at home? He had to finally admit to himself   
that he was intriqued by her. He'd never had a recruit so driven to succeed and   
so...confident and comfortable in her own ability. And yet...there was some   
vulnerability to her that he couldn't put his finger on. She was impressing   
him...and he'd gone from dismissing her completely to being surprised and   
gaining respect for her...to feeling a part of him that wanted to root for her   
and help her through all this. A little 'knight in shining armor' syndrome of   
his own, he supposed.  
  
It didn't help that she was attractive. And that disturbed him most of all. That   
he even found her attractive. He'd known plenty of good looking women in the   
Army. He'd never had a problem disassociating from it before. It was simply not   
a factor to him. He shook his head as if to clear it and walked the perimeter   
again. Two more weeks and she'd be gone and he wouldn't have to worry about it   
anymore.  
  
They marched back towards base in the morning, stopping for another MRE on the   
trail, where one of the LT's had eaten his lunch and then reached over and   
pulled a stick up out of the sand beside the trail. Will had been waiting for   
this, since Brad had run ahead and planted the out-of-place long, straight stick   
there earlier. The Major had jumped on the LT in a near rage. A stick planted in   
the ground was an old Vietnam booby trap. They were usually attached to a nice   
big buried explosive.  
  
"You'd have been hamburger, Lieutenant! Along with everyone here within a 15   
foot radius!" Will had stepped out to fifteen feet from the LT and walked in a   
circle, showing the young officer how many of his team members he would have   
injured or killed. "You're an officer! You should know better!"  
  
The rest of the recruits had watched silently as the LT was blasted and Wayne   
knew they'd be a lot more observant now. Things were changing here. They were   
about to get more complicated. Time to use their brains instead of their brawn.   
Wayne had glanced at Burnett through the incident. She had been grim and   
thoughtful, her attention fully riveted to Will and what he was saying. Wayne   
could almost see her mind turning over the information and processing it for   
further use. Amazing.  
  
They marched back into camp a few hours later, and Will had ordered everyone to   
the rifle range. The soft swearing and dejected looks made him grin at Wayne.   
Wayne would have grinned back...but, keeping much closer to his personality, he   
just lifted a corner of his mouth in smug amusement. Quite frankly, it was the   
equivalent of a broad, laughing smile in Wayne- language. They hesitated for a   
moment as Wayne went to the ammo shed for some M16 rounds. The assigned guard   
for that evening, Nelson, stood there leaning against the makeshift armory. He   
looked casual...and his helmet sat on the ground beside him. Wayne swore and   
made a beeline for the MP. Will had watched him and then slowly followed.  
  
"Nelson!" Wayne barked as he drew closer. The MP looked up, surprised, and then   
quickly stood at attention. The rest of the soldiers in the yard stopped talking   
and watched the confrontation. Wayne scowled as he got in the young Corporal's   
face.  
  
"Why the hell is your cover sitting on the ground?"  
  
"I was hot, Staff Sergeant!"  
  
"Hot? Are you or are you not supposed to be covered when you're on guard duty   
around here?"  
  
"All soldiers on guard duty are supposed to be covered, Staff Sergeant!" The Corporal   
glanced at Major Elias, who stood, arms folded over his chest, and watched   
silently.  
  
"Then why is your helmet on the ground, Corporal?"  
  
"I..." the MP hesitated and glanced at the Major. A Staff Sergeant didn't   
concern him as much as the officer.  
  
"Answer the Staff Sergeant, Corporal Nelson." The Major ordered.  
  
"It's...uh..."  
  
"How many times have I reminded you about your helmet, Corporal?" Wayne cut him   
off and asked.  
  
"Three times, Staff Sergeant."  
  
"Three times! Three strikes and you're out, Nelson. You're cut! Go home to your   
unit!"  
  
The MP stared at him in disbelief. "What?"  
  
"I'm done with you! If you can't obey the simplest regulations, then you're out.   
I despise incompetence like this. Pack up and report to the personnel officer   
tomorrow morning. You're out of here!"  
  
"Sir..." Nelson was flabbergasted and he glanced towards the Major for   
help. Will shook his head.  
  
"What are the rules concerning cover for the Military Police, Corporal?"  
  
The MP had blanched slightly then and answered firmly. "MPs are to be covered at   
all times out of doors, sir...We may be uncovered when under shelter except   
while armed, sir. If we are armed, then we must be covered while under shelter."  
  
Will had nodded and then held up his hands and shrugged. "Staff Sergeant Sneeden said   
you're gone, Corporal. You'd better pack up and be ready to go tomorrow   
morning."  
  
Nelson stared at the Major, but didn't dare argue.  
  
"Yes sir!"  
  
"You're dismissed, Corporal Nelson."  
  
"Yes sir!"  
  
The Corporal picked up his helmet and began to walk away. Will stepped closer to   
Wayne.  
  
"Are you sure about this, Wayne? The kid's father is CID."  
  
"Hell yeah...I've told him three times to keep covered. That's two more warnings   
than I like to give."  
  
Will tried to hide a smile. "Ok...I'll back you up."  
  
They began to walk away, Wayne already thinking about who to order into guard   
duty to take Nelson's place. The other soldiers stared at them, and Wayne heard   
a comment expressed slightly too loud by a tall PFC to his left.  
  
"What a prick."  
  
He suddenly lunged to his left and glared into the young man's face. "You have   
no idea, Private! I can be more of a prick than you could ever imagine!" Will   
had put a restraining hand on Wayne's shoulder and led him away.  
  
"Easy Wayne. Let me handle this."  
  
Wayne walked away as Will began to shout orders. He met the eyes of every   
soldier who looked his way. And then he looked into a pair of brilliant green   
ones that held his gaze with something akin to indecision. Burnett broke the   
gaze when she realized he had stopped walking to fix her pointedly with his   
piercing stare. She turned away and marched with the others, but Wayne wondered   
if she shared the PFC's, and undoubtedly the rest of the camp as well, opinion   
of him. He swore softly and turned back to go find another guard. He didn't care   
what she thought. But he wondered why he had to keep repeating those words to   
himself silently.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 


	4. Sonnets

A Good Soldier--Chapter 4  
  
By Slayne  
  
Still Rated R for big-boy language!  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ The next few days were   
a blur of motion for the recruits. The physical torture didn't exactly let up,   
but it eased into a different sort of monster that involved complex war games   
and booby-trapped obstacle course that had to be worked carefully. Two of the   
late-night war games involved specific missions assigned to small groups of   
recruits pitted against each other. In each group, one of the soldiers had been   
assigned as a 'double agent'. No one except that assigned soldier, knew who it   
was, but they knew there was one. If the group worked it out and ferreted the   
'traitor' out, arresting them and finishing their proper mission, they were   
awarded top points. On the other hand...if they were wrong, and the 'traitor'   
instead manipulated the rest of the group to the completion of their own   
mission...the points went to the individual.  
  
Corporal Burnett was unusually good at that game. Not only did she come into the   
group with a professional and deliberate intent to be an important member of it,   
but also she took an immediate leadership role that had even the higher-ranking   
men following her. This intrigued Wayne. He accomplished the same thing in his   
own life...but not the way she did it. He relied on direct intimidation and   
confrontation to force himself to the forefront. Burnett manipulated the others   
with stealthy psychology and acting. Half the men probably didn't know why they   
wanted to follow this woman...they just knew they trusted her. And in the second   
war game of the night last night...that was a fatal mistake. She was the double   
agent in that game...and she deftly manipulated the group into arresting the   
ranking soldier in her place. Wayne had almost felt chilled with the ease at   
which she had accomplished this feat. The group then followed her blindly into   
the completion of her mission. Points to Burnett.  
  
He shouldn't have been surprised. He had seen first-hand the ease with which she   
had talked to every soldier there, regardless of rank. It was one thing she had   
always done well, and was an especially good trait in a Covert Ops agent. She   
could talk and fit in comfortably with anyone of any rank at any time. Hell,   
she'd probably make one hell of a CID officer, if she had wanted to go that   
direction. Undercover work galore...and they always needed women. But internal   
investigation was not everyone's favorite job choice.  
  
She picked her way carefully through the trapped obstacle courses. Almost too   
carefully. Her times were slow, but her errors were low as well. She had one of   
the best success rates of any man there. And impatience was marked badly here.   
Speed didn't help you if it got you killed.  
  
The morning after the last night game, Wayne had been sent to the nearby covert   
ops training school with a supply sergeant to pick up a few supplies. He sat   
silently in the seat of the truck as they drove, his mind running over the past   
few days. He hadn't talked to Corporal Burnett since the incident with the MP   
before the night games. That incident had been running through his mind a lot   
lately. He did despise incompetence, and the kid displayed it in spades   
considering he was an MP, so his own reaction to it had made sense. But his   
outburst towards the PFC afterwards troubled him. He usually would have let that   
'prick' comment go without a sideways glance. Instead he had felt like he was   
stretched tight and near breaking and had lunged at the kid in anger. He   
suspected he was more than frustrated at himself over something...or someone. He   
was angry. What the hell was the matter with him? He rarely did things like that   
anymore. He had a flash of memory at the thought. Him, a 13-year-old boy, coming   
home from school, bloodied and bruised. Black eyes upon black eyes and new cuts   
over the old. Clutching a three-day suspension.  
  
"They call me names." He protested when he had caught his father's ever-present   
glare.  
  
"I don't care if they horse-whip you, son! You don't lose your temper like that.   
That's never gotten any man anywhere but into a prison cell!"  
  
Wayne had simply endured school for long years. His over-large and out of   
fashion clothes set him apart from the other kids and set him up for a long life   
of teasing and bullying. But he hadn't been a timid kid nor a small one. He had   
learned to fight back and then had learned to close out all the whispers around   
him and concentrate on his goal. He had joined the military straight out of high   
school, surprising his teachers who had thought the valedictorian of the class   
would be college-bound in the fall. But he had felt a bored irritation at the   
thought of 4 years of classroom work, followed by a mundane life of 9 to 5   
bullshit. It wasn't for him. He'd proven his intelligence and determination,   
despite his poor upbringings, and felt no need to continue that path  
  
The Army had, very surprisingly, embraced him eagerly. He was opinionated and   
stubborn and not above talking when he shouldn't...but the Army's discipline and   
rigid structure had agreed with him and he thrived in it. Here, he could   
challenge himself to the limit. He could drive himself to whatever levels he   
wished and no one was going to stop him because of stereotypes or class. The   
Army gave him a clear code of conduct and the chance to protect his country and   
its way of life. He eagerly learned the weapons, the vehicles and the history.   
In short...he loved it. He could no longer imagine himself doing anything else.  
  
The truck pulled through the gates of the Covert-Ops School and through the   
miles of jungle and muddy roads that surrounded it. He had a list comprised of   
several odds and ends from the various officers and grunts working the new camp,   
and had a few things to pick up for himself as well. He, Will and Brad had also   
decided on the various obstacles that would make up the final test for the camp,   
and they'd need supplies to set it all up. He left the list with the training   
school's supply sergeant and then went to the commissary to fill the odds and   
ends list. He was standing at the counter, patiently waiting for the PFC there   
to box up everything, when he turned and saw the table of paperback books. He   
glanced at them, and then did a double take as one seemed to jump out at him and   
inspire images of a cool and determined Corporal with brown hair and green eyes.   
He reached out and picked up the book, studying it. It wasn't the same edition   
as the one Burnett had...but it was the same book. He hesitated for a brief   
moment and then threw it up on the counter in front of the surprised PFC. When   
the kid gave him a curious look, Wayne scowled.  
  
"You got a problem, Private?"  
  
"No sir!" The PFC lowered his head and threw the book into one of the boxes.   
Wayne took it out again and shoved it into the cargo pocket of his Camouflage   
BDU pants. He thumbed through it on the ride back to base, and found the sonnet   
that Burnett had recited to him on the trail. He read it through several times   
and it made no more sense to him now than it did then. He tried to read more and   
quickly became discouraged. Why would anyone want to read stuff like this?  
  
He got back to the remote camp in time for mess and ate with Brad, who filled   
him in on the day's activities. They settled in at the makeshift beer bar after   
mess and discussed what they'd have to do the next day. Will joined them a few   
minutes later. They were debating whether or not to cut the LT who had set the   
false booby trap off on the trail, when Wayne saw Corporal Burnett walk in. He   
was surprised at first, since he had not seen her here before, but then he   
didn't spend every night here. He watched as she took in the room, her gaze   
shuffling over him and Will before finding a small group of recruits in the   
corner. She went to join them and was greeted by smiles and polite nods. Wayne   
realized that the recruits in that circle had already proven themselves the   
intellectuals of the class and spent their time theorizing tradecraft and   
talking shop about Intelligence. He wondered if she knew them well. Did they   
call her by her first name? What was the nickname for the name 'Alison'? Allie?   
She looked like an Allie.  
  
"Wayne? Hello?"  
  
Wayne jumped as a hand suddenly shook his shoulder. He looked towards Brad's   
grinning face and glared.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What're you so interested in?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
Will shook his head and looked at the far table of recruits. "You've had your   
eye on her since the day she arrived. She's cute."  
  
Wayne glanced at him and said nothing. Jesus Christ...did it show? Had everyone   
noticed?  
  
"She's struggling though...maybe she needs a little 'extra attention'?" Will   
grinned at him. Wayne ignored him, and Brad shook his head and made a sound of   
disgust.  
  
"How exactly does one get to be a Major by thinking with his dick?" Greengrass   
asked darkly.  
  
"Aw Christ, I'm just kidding, Brad!" Will stood and stretched and clapped Wayne   
on the shoulder. "All the same...you'd better move fast, she won't be here for   
the end. There's no way she's getting through this camp, right?"  
  
Wayne glanced at him and felt a sudden prick of foreboding. What the hell did he   
mean by that? He watched as the Major walked across the room and made a comment   
to the table of recruits, drawing laughter from them.  
  
"I don't like the way he jokes about women all the time," Brad muttered grimly.  
  
"He makes more Indian jokes than sexist comments," Wayne replied, glancing at   
him.  
  
"We're called Native Americans, redneck. Get politically correct!" Greengrass   
grinned at him, teasingly.  
  
"Is that the best stereotype you could come up with for a southern boy?"  
  
"Well, for you...the other would be 'he was a quiet guy, kind of a loner...'   
after the severed heads are discovered in your freezer."  
  
"And they'll all be Second Lieutenant's heads, I promise."  
  
Brad laughed and shook his head. "Hey...what's the difference between a PFC and   
a Second Lieutenant?"  
  
Wayne knew this joke and a corner of his mouth tugged upwards. "The PFC's been   
promoted."  
  
Brad grinned. "Should have known you'd heard that one! I hate saluting those   
butter bars!"  
  
Wayne actually grinned now at the derogatory term for Second Lieutenants   
straight out of Officer's School, their LT bar gold instead of silver. It was   
the curse of the enlisted man. No matter how high you climbed, you still had to   
salute every fresh young LT that crossed your path. Wayne couldn't imagine how   
he would feel about that in another 10 years, when he was nearing 40 and the   
young LT's were significantly younger than him.  
  
Will came back and gave Wayne a look. "That Intel Sergeant has an eye for   
her, Wayne. You'd better get moving."  
  
"It's not an option, Will. I'm not talking about it."  
  
Will shrugged. "It happens all the time out there." He nodded towards the door   
as if saying it happened all the time right outside on the camp lawn. "You don't   
have to marry her. Serving together in a foreign country makes for strange   
bedfellows!"  
  
"There are women outside the Army, Will."  
  
"Not for you, Wayne. No woman outside of this life is going to put up with you!"  
  
Wayne lifted a corner of his mouth in a smile, but he stared stonily at the   
floor. Will was right. His relationships with women outside of the military had   
been spectacularly unsuccessful. Well...the ones in the military weren't   
necessarily a success either, but he had neither the time, nor the desire to   
find the time, to put the required effort into them to make them work.  
  
"You're both in the enlisted ranks."  
  
"But I'm her instructor. That means she's a subordinate right now. The   
regulations state..."  
  
"Oh Christ, Wayne. Don't start quoting the regs...you know I hate that!" Will   
actually glared at him.  
  
Wayne shrugged and took a swallow of his beer. Will continued, pointing a finger   
into his chest.  
  
"Besides, I've seen you ignore regulations and even orders occasionally."  
  
Wayne set his glass on the counter. "Yes...on those rare occasions when the regs   
will hurt a mission, I'll say fuck 'em, but I can't think of one single   
situation where I'd turn to a female subordinate and say 'Snap to, Private.   
We're all gonna die in this battle unless you get on your knees and blow me.'"  
  
That brought a smile back to Will's face and even Brad broke out laughing. Wayne   
just lifted one corner of his mouth as usual. Again, he thought...he wasn't   
completely without a sense of humor. Will clapped him on the shoulder.  
  
"You're like a big bad, very, very scary boy scout, Wayne."  
  
Wayne thought that was all right. It was a hell of a lot better than being a   
slacker after all.  
  
TBC..........  
  
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	5. Dreams

A Good Soldier--chapter 5  
  
By Slayne  
  
11/19/02--- I revised and edited this whole story after learning of some military errors I made in it. My older stories will be left as is, but I decided to change this one. I'm still learning, but I do strive to be as military-accurate as my current knowledge and G.I. Joe will allow!  
  
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Wayne's muscles tensed almost painfully as Alison's fingers ran down his chest and over his stomach. She was whispering in his ear, telling him how much she wanted him and then her mouth was pressing to his throat, then up to his lips as her hands slid beneath the waist of the belted camo pants he wore, her fingertips tickling his spine. He kissed her with vigor, tasting her with relish, sliding his arms around her narrow waist and pressing her hard against him. Her mouth was sweet and warm and he wanted her badly. Her fingernails ran up his back, making his jaw clench...and he suddenly woke from the dream into the darkness of his room.  
  
He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, slowly coming to the realization that none of it had been real. His breath was hard and sweat ran down his face and chest. His body was almost painfully tight. He sat up slowly and buried his face in his hands. Jesus Christ.  
  
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a long moment, trying to relax and picking over the details of the vivid dream. His growing attraction to the young Corporal was disturbing him intensely...and yet his mind wanted to remember every detail of that dream...and store it away for future perusal. Anger boiled up inside of him again. What the hell was so special about her that she could splinter his rigid self- discipline like this? He glanced at the clock and saw it was oh four hundred. He pulled on his sweat-soaked fatigues from the day before and strapped a shoulder holster on with his .45. He might as well go for a run; he needed to clear his mind.  
  
He ran steadily down the narrow dirt path surrounding the camp. It was still dark, but the moon was bright now and easily lit the way along with several well-placed lights equipped with motion sensors. The dream seemed to have pushed his denial away with waking and he finally allowed himself to accept the fact that he was very attracted to Alison Hart-Burnett. She was beautiful, intelligent, capable and as driven as he was in some respects. Despite the differences in their backgrounds...they were very similar, he realized. She had all the qualities he admired in a woman...and in another soldier. He wondered briefly what she would do if he told her about his feelings. His feelings. How had he let himself fall into this? Anger welled up inside of him. It seemed to always be present inside of him these days. He'd had his priorities straight before Corporal Burnett had appeared in his life.  
  
Well, it didn't matter. He wouldn't tell her while she was his recruit. It seemed like failing her in the worst possible way to even consider it. Maybe after the camp was done, and they were both enlisted soldiers at different bases? Maybe she could get to know him better, away from all the rank and protocol. Long distance relationships worked pretty well for him. Maybe not.  
  
He went through the rest of the day and then the week with an eye towards the female Corporal. His acceptance of his situation did not mean he wasn't angry with himself for falling into it. And that anger stretched to cover Burnett as well. He was aware in some sense that she had done nothing to cause him to feel this way, but it didn't matter. He ran her ragged. He leapt to confront each mistake with a new ferocity that had her gritting her teeth in effort. He didn't let up and sometimes he kept her after everyone was dismissed, making her atone for any error in judgment by doing push-ups or running laps. At night, he joined Will and Brad in the beer hall and smiled at Will's exuberant praise for the way he was handling her. She'd be gone any day now...Will was sure of it. Wayne...did not agree with that. He knew she'd stay, no matter how intolerable things became for her. Somehow...where once that had filled him with a deep sense of respect for her, it now just pissed him off. Brad's disapproving glares made him feel like shit though. He fixed that by avoiding the other Staff Sergeant when at all possible.  
  
Burnett hadn't questioned his newly found aggression towards her. It wasn't as if he were taking it easy on the others. He'd had more than one of them out here beside her in the evenings, but he'd caught her confused and wondering glance more than a few times. That had actually sent a prickle of fear through him.  
  
He didn't realize how intolerable he had made things for her until the end of the week. He had her on the ground doing push-ups again in the growing darkness. It was pouring rain over them both. Wayne shouted at the Corporal as her arms trembled from the effort and upper body strength it took to complete the push-ups. He heard her voice faintly through the rain. At first he thought she was counting, because of the rhythm of the words, and then he heard her say an actual word and he frowned.  
  
"Speak up if you have something to say, Corporal!"  
  
She rested briefly, her forehead down against the muddy ground as she breathed heavily and stayed silent.  
  
"Out with it...NOW, Corporal! And I didn't tell you to stop those push- ups! You should be a pro at this by now."  
  
She pushed herself up into position again and her trembling arms lowered her down and then pushed her back up again. Her voice came through the noise of the rain softly but clearly.  
  
"Accuse me thus...that I have scanted all...Wherein I should your great... deserts repay...Forgot upon your dearest... love to call...Whereto all bonds. do tie me day by. day:" Her labored breath made the quantrains choppy and rough.  
  
He was silent as he stared down at her. She struggled to push herself up and down and her hair clung, drenched, to the sides of her head and streamed water into her face and off her chin and nose to the muddy ground beneath her. The muscles in her back were tense with effort and she went to her knees to do push-ups in the 'girl's' style. He caught a brief glimpse of her face as she chanted out the words from between gritted teeth. Her eyes were squeezed closed.  
  
"And on...just proof surmise...accumulate...Bring me...within the level of your...frown...But shoot...not at me in your...waken'd hate...Since...m-my appeal...says I did...did strive...to...to p- prove..."  
  
"Stop." He said it quietly. Too quietly for her to hear over the driving rain. Almost too quietly for his own ears. He was angry with himself...not her. What the hell was he doing? This was just as bad as giving her preferential treatment.  
  
"The...c-constancy and...virtue...of y-your...love."  
  
"Stop Burnett! It's enough."  
  
She hesitated and glanced up at him. He met her eyes then glanced away. The rain poured down through his hair and ran over his soaked clothes. She brought her legs underneath her and slowly stood.  
  
"You can stop. It's enough. I...I'm..." He couldn't say anymore and she swallowed and looked uneasily at him. "Get some rest." He managed before turning to walk away from her as fast as his dignity would allow.  
  
"I'm sorry you don't like me very much, Staff." she said before he had gone very far. He hesitated without turning around, a cold knife stabbing through his chest. She continued. "But I'm not leaving this camp..."  
  
"Good...Then there's hope for you yet." He replied and hurried off. The incident would stay with him for a long time. Even after the camp was long over.  
  
He managed to put it out of his mind for the duration of the camp. There was one week left now, and the recruits could see the light at the end of the tunnel. He had fallen back to his old self and stayed away from the nighttime chats with Will and Brad. He concentrated on the final tests that would determine the 'winners' of this camp. No one would likely be cut or quit now, and all would likely make it through the final three-day test in one fashion or another, but he'd have to judge them all fairly.  
  
Five days out from the end, they gave the recruits an easy day and let them hit their bunks early. Wayne turned down Brad's offer of a drink and went back to his quarters. He stripped off his shirt and stretched out on his bed in his camo pants and boots. As much as he loved all of this, it was exhausting. He had to keep up with the others and show no weakness. He was in the prime of his life, but he could feel himself breaking down just like they were. He was laying on his bed, his back propped against the wall, reading a book when Will came through his door without knocking.  
  
"Hey...What the hell are you doing?" Will stared at him in disbelief.  
  
Wayne looked up over the small paperback and met the Major's eyes. "It's called reading, bonehead...you should try it sometime."  
  
Will ignored the 'bonehead' comment. He stared at the elaborate script on the cover of the book. "What the hell are you reading?"  
  
Wayne shut the book and threw it on the table next to the bed. "It's Shakespeare...I'm sure you never read it."  
  
"Is it good?"  
  
"It's ok...what do you want, Will?" His voice held an edge of impatience to it. He was still trying to understand what she saw in that book. What gave her such strength? He wasn't seeing it.  
  
"We need to map out the final three days..." He was interrupted as shouting began outside, and both men leapt up and went running into the yard. Through the yelling of the soldiers on guard duty, there were gunshots. Everyone was pouring into the open now and Will took over instantly, grabbing Wayne and motioning him to follow. Through the confusion, they managed to figure out that three men had attacked the MP on night watch and tried to break into the ammo shed. The MP was shot through the upper arm, but otherwise ok. Will immediately began securing the camp and giving everyone a job. He sent Wayne, Brad and one of the older, less annoying Lieutenants out after the three guerillas and posted the recruits into watch duty.  
  
Knowing time was incredibly important in apprehending the small band of men, Wayne joined Brad to pick up a rifle, pulled the mask on that Brad threw him, and the three of them headed out of the camp. They knew which way the guerillas would go. They all went the same way. The Lieutenant proved himself even less annoying than originally anticipated, when he actually contributed something useful to the mission and listened intently to everything Brad and Wayne had to say. They found the men within a half hour and managed to take two of them into custody without a shot being fired. The two gave up instantly with three M-16's trained on them, but the third pulled his gun and somehow got away into the jungle. Wayne went after him, leaving Brad and the LT to deal with the two captured subjects.  
  
Wayne tracked the third steadily and carefully. The man couldn't get away, and would doubtlessly realize this eventually and try to ambush him. He walked down the bare dirt path that wound its way south. Despite its obvious visibility, it would make much less noise to walk on a cleared path rather than in the brush. It was barely the width of one foot though, and the trees and brush grew heavily up to it. As he got further from the confrontation site, the jungle grew quieter, and he moved slower. Every sense he had was open wide and attuned to the smallest detail of his surroundings. Every problem and stress he had receded and became unimportant. Everything else in his life dropped away in deference to the intensity of this moment. His fatigue disappeared and new energy filled him. It was always like that. He could die in an instant right now. Survival was the only important thing. It overwhelmed everything else. He let it consume him.  
  
He edged forward, then sank down on his heels and listened. The insects were even quiet. The guy was close. He felt the insects settle on his bare torso and begin to bite. He didn't move. He waited...hearing nothing. Then...the smallest snap of a branch. His eyes slid left, but he didn't move. The insects to his left began whirring then became silent....then whirred again briefly and became silent. Wayne slowly turned left. He could hear his own breathing. Then...he heard someone else's. He watched as the third man came into view. The man held a rifle out in front of himself and crept up to a tangle of bushes next to the trail and then peered back up it in the direction of the base. Wayne stared at him with tunnel vision. He raised his rifle and aimed directly at the man's head. He slowly stood, keeping his sights locked on the man.  
  
"Rendirse! Ponga las manos arriba!" He barked out and watched as the man whirled around and stared at him. The man glared and yelled in Spanish while Wayne shouted again for him to surrender. The man jerked his gun up...and Wayne shot him.  
  
The man dropped like a ton of bricks and lay still. Wayne approached him slowly then saw the man was obviously dead. He'd taken the bullet to the face and his eyes hadn't even closed. Wayne let out a deep breath and stared down at him for a moment. He wasn't impervious to the sad fact that most of the villagers around here were too poor to resist the armies of the drug lords. They offered small salaries, but the villagers most often ended up in the front lines against police and foreign armies. But...when it came down to kill or be killed...Wayne would never have a doubt as to which path he would take. He slung the rifle onto his back and reached down to heft the man up over his shoulder and carry him down the path.  
  
He dragged the man into the camp a few hours later. Brad had met him on the path and took his gun from him, helping him drag the dead man. Will met them as they stood on the edge of camp and shook his head at Wayne.  
  
"Christ, Staff! I should have known...the LT said you went after a guy who got away."  
  
"I shouted at him to surrender. He tried to shoot me."  
  
"Understood." He stared down at the body and sighed. This would mean questions and investigation, but it had happened before. It would be routine.  
  
Wayne stood tiredly and pulled the mask from his head, stuffing it in the cargo pocket of his pants. When he looked up, he saw Corporal Burnett standing in the small group surrounding him. Her eyes met his and she was looking at him with a wide-eyed expression that he didn't like. He glanced down and realized he had blood smeared on his bare chest and arms from the dead man at his feet. He walked forward through the group and he met her eyes with a steely coldness.  
  
"Get used to it, Burnett. You wanted to be Covert-Ops...well, this is part of it."  
  
She said nothing, but she stepped back as he passed as if not wanting him too close to her. That sent a pang of...something through him. Was that the way people viewed him? But of course, that's what he really wanted anyway...wasn't it? The fact that he was questioning things about himself that he thought he had set into stone long ago pissed him off. He stalked into his quarters and took the book from the table and threw it forcefully into the bathroom garbage can. Then he took a shower and washed the blood from himself, cursing himself for not putting a shirt on before he went after the men. It was never wise to get someone else's blood on you. When he was dried and re-dressed, he stood before the mirror and stared at himself in it. The army had trained him to be a highly efficient killer...and that was something he had been proud of. Should he be? He shook his head and stared into his own brown eyes in the mirror. He stood silent and thinking for a long moment and then clicked off the light. He'd have to go back and give his story to Will right now. He was surprised Will wasn't at his door yet, yelling. He began to walk out the door, and then he hesitated. Before he left, he went back and pulled the book from the garbage. He set it back on the table and walked out.  
  
TBC..........  
  
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	6. Pain

A Good Soldier -- Chapter 6  
  
By Slayne  
  
The next day was a strange one. It was subdued and quiet around the camp with a barely discernable sense of excitement. The final test was about to begin. It would last three days and test the endurance, both physically and mentally, of the recruits who remained. It would begin the next morning and not let up for 72 hours. Wayne and Brad took the recruits for a light run in the morning, and then the rest of the day was spent in explanation and preperation of the final war game.  
  
Wayne had spent the night before in Will's makeshift office, explaining to him and a Colonel from the Covert-Ops school what had happened that night and how he had killed the would-be thief in the jungle. He didn't think much would come of it, but you could never be sure.  
  
He yawned now as he watched the recruits pack their gear for the next morning. Everything they would need, or were allowed, for the next three days. His eyes wandered to the far corner, where Burnett was carefully stuffing the gear into her pack. He felt a rivulet of guilt wash through him as he remembered the way he had driven her a few days ago. It was followed by a strange mix of respect, affection and pride in the way she continued to comport herself and drive forward. Her green eyes met his a couple of times, and he didn't bother to look away. He let her feel him studying her. She thought he disliked her. What would she say if she knew the truth?  
  
The packs were ordered left in here,locked in the recon room, until the next morning. Then the recruits were dismissed for the evening. They could use the free time to get some sleep and rest up for the next three days of hell, or they could use it to party prematurely and cause themselves undue hardship and risk an incomplete on the course. Their choice. Wayne was quite sure they'd all take the time to rest up. He nodded to Brad as the man left to walk the courses one last time in final preperation. Will glanced at him and then at Wayne.  
  
"You've been quiet lately, Wayne. Why don't you come down for a beer tonight?"  
  
Wayne grimaced and began to refuse. Will saw it and scowled.  
  
"Just one. We'll be busy for the next three days and then it's over. I have to be back in the States on Saturday."  
  
"I don't think so. I need to get some sleep. How bout mess though? I'm starving."  
  
"No...I'm eating with the Colonel. He wants an overview of what's going on. I'll lock up here...go on."  
  
Wayne stood and gave him a salute since he was covered and armed. Will returned it, dismissing him, and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. Wayne walked through the door and out into the yard. He got halfway to the mess building before stopping. He sighed to himself and hesitated. One beer wouldn't hurt. He glanced back towards the door and then grinned and turned towards it. He burst back through it and into the recon room, his mouth opening to to swear at Will and tell him he was buying...when he stopped in shock.  
  
Will was bent over one of the packs on the floor. He looked surprised when Wayne burst back in and his eyes widened slightly as they met the Staff Sergeant's. Wayne stared back, the smile dropping from his face as he saw the open pack and the climbing rope in the Major's left hand, a small buck knife in his right. The rope was frayed just slightly in a few places, where the knife had been strategically applied. Wayne knew exactly who the pack belonged to. He had watched Burnett place it in the far corner himself.  
  
"Wayne.." Will began, calmly, his voice already sounding placating.  
  
"Will, what the hell are you doing?" The dead calmness of his voice contradicted the small ball of anger that began creeping through his mind. Will set the rope down and then folded the knife, sliding it back into his cargo pocket.  
  
"Look, Wayne...you don't want her here anymore than I do. You don't want to be the one who has to serve with her, do you?"  
  
Wayne said nothing, but every muscle in his body tensed as the realization hit home. Black fury enveloped him in a way it hadn't done since he was a kid.  
  
"She was doing fine." He spat between clenched teeth.  
  
"Exactly, Wayne...don't you see? She was going to make it and that's bullshit! We talk about it all the time! You joke about it right along with me." His voice was strong, but there was an underlying whine to it that Wayne had never noticed before.  
  
"Joking's one thing, Will...but you're cutting her goddamn climbing rope!"  
  
"She wouldn't get hurt..not bad anyway. I cut it enough so it'd break right away...I..."  
  
"You pretentious bastard!" Wayne growled at him, and he saw a brief look of fear on the officer's face. "You self-serving, cowardly little fuck!"  
  
Will's face registered anger now and he tried to regain control of the situation.  
  
"Don't call me a fucking coward, Wayne! I fought right alongside you in Benning. I was in Grenada. Don't make me pull rank on you!"  
  
Wayne nearly exploded in anger then. He suddenly rushed forward and grabbed the front of Will's shirt, slamming him back against the wall. The whole shack shook with the impact and Will inhaled sharply as he stared down into the furious brown eyes of the Ranger.  
  
"Let me go, Sneeden! If I want to I could have your ass in the provost marshall's office and up on charges in an hour."  
  
Wayne stared at him with barely contained anger and something akin to disappointment. "Then call them, Will. Let's see what they have to say when they hear my side of the story."  
  
Will glared at him and tried to break free, but Wayne slammed the bigger man back against the wall and snarled at him.  
  
"If you ever...EVER...try to sabotage one of my soldiers again, Major, I will sneak into your room when you're sleeping and put my fucking combat knife right through your throat and into your pillow. Understand?"  
  
"You ever touch me again, Staff Sergeant, and your career is over."  
  
"Do you understand?" Wayne shouted it three inches away from the Major's face.  
  
"Yes." Will was seething but he swallowed hard and Wayne had no doubt that the man believed every word he had just said. He felt disgusted, hurt, furious and sick all at the same time and realized he was perilously close to beating the crap out of a superior officer. But...it was still Will. He suddenly released the Major and shoved him away from himself. Will whirled on him as soon as he found his balance.  
  
"I thought you were my fucking friend, Wayne."  
  
"And I thought you were mine."  
  
"This whole damn Army is run on games and unwritten rules. You'd better learn how to play, or someone is going to throw you to the wolves someday. Don't fuck with me, Sneeden. Not ever again!" He turned and propelled himself through the door.  
  
Wayne stood in the middle of the recon room and stared after him for a long time. He had thought Will and he were the same. That somehow, inspite of his efforts to keep people at a distance, he and Will would be friends for a long, long time. Somehow he had been wrong. Somehow he had missed something somewhere. Somehow, he always did.  
  
Well, what the hell do you expect, he told himself sharply. It's your own damn fault. You know better than to set yourself up like that. The sick feeling in his belly had begun to fade, or else he had fought it off...but the anger was still simmering and he turned and slammed a fist violently into the wall, where Will had been pinned only moments before. Pain blossomed through his knuckles but it felt good. He hit it again and then stared at the splash of red that stayed behind. The trace of hot tears in his eyes made him angrier and embarassed and he smashed the side of his fist into the wall once more. The old wood and plaster cracked. His hand was numb now, his wrist ached. He got control of himself again.  
  
He leaned forward on his uninjured hand and let the top of his head rest against the wall while he stared at the pack at his feet. He could take the pack and his testimony to the nearby training base and report Will to the ranking officer. He should do that. A good soldier would do that. But again...it was still Will. The one person he had felt connected to all this time.  
  
He glanced at his knuckles. Blood was running down over his fingers and dripping onto the floor. He took a deep breath and wiped the hand on his pants, holding it there until the bleeding stopped. He bent down and picked up the damaged rope and took it outside. He threw it in one of the garbage cans and then went to the supply shed and picked out a new one. He took it back and stuffed it in Burnett's pack. Then...he went looking for Burnett.  
  
He found her in the mess tent, sitting with a few of the remaining recruits. She had just finished her dinner and the book of Shakespeare's sonnets was laying in it's place beside her tray as she chatted with one of the young Lieutenants.  
  
"Burnett!" He barked, louder than he meant to, but the rage still simmered within' him and he found himself reacting to it unexpectedly.  
  
The whole tent looked up and Burnett seemed surprised when she looked up to see him. She stood immediately, and he heard the low comments from her companions.  
  
"What did you do now to piss him off, Burnett?"  
  
She didn't answer them and he ignored them as well, but one well-delivered glare silenced the higher-ranking men.  
  
"Get your ass out here...now!" He turned and walked out of the tent and she grabbed her book from the table, shoving it in her pocket, and then followed him out.  
  
"I'm sorry, Staff. Did I do some..."  
  
"Shut up, Corporal. Follow me." He strided towards the recon room and she followed him silently. When they got there, he walked over and took her pack and threw it at her feet. She stared down at it in confusion and then back up at him.  
  
"From now on, you keep your gear in your barracks with you at night. In the mornings you're going to get up and report a half hour earlier than anyone else. You will then re-check all your equipment and re-pack it yourself. I want you to do this twice, understand? Once when everyone else does it and once more right before we march out."  
  
She stared at him in disbelief. "Staff, I assure you...I know how to pack gear correctly. I..."  
  
"I don't give a fuck what you know! You'll do it. You can do it right now!"  
  
She stared at him again and when his glare darkened, she set her mouth firmly and sank down to her knees, opening the pack. She began pulling her gear out of it and then stopped as she pulled the new rope from it. She stared at it with a look of confusion.  
  
"You check your gear...all of it...before we march out...and then you don't let it out of your sight again. Got it?" His voice was still hard but it had softened. He watched as understanding flooded into her eyes. She stared at the rope and then swallowed hard. When she glanced up at him, he saw the barest hint of hurt in her eyes, of frustration with the fact that some things would never change. It made him want to hunt Will down and beat him into a bloody pulp.  
  
"No one gets a free ride in my camp, Corporal. But everyone gets a fair shot."  
  
She nodded and began slowly re-packing her gear. "Thank you, Staff. I'll report half an hour early and repeat this just like you ordered."  
  
"Good." He started to walk past her and then hesitated. His hand hovered over her shoulder. He wanted to give her some sense of comfort, some reassurance. He wondered if she would even find any of that in his touch. He drew his hand back and walked out of the room.  
  
He didn't sleep much that night. He wasn't sure what would go on between him and Will now, and he couldn't dispell that dull ache from his gut. He managed to sleep for a few solid hours just before dawn. The recruits were lined up and ready at first light after reveille. Wayne was somewhat relieved when Will acted professionally and curt with him. There was no warmth or friendship there..but no nastiness either. Two co-workers who had to deal with each other.  
  
As his gaze flew down the line of recruits, he noticed an absence suddenly. Where the hell was Burnett? He glanced around the yard and did not see her. He moved to Brad's side.  
  
"Brad...was Corporal Burnett at reveille?"  
  
Brad thought. "I don't remember seeing her." He scanned the row of recruits. "She'd better show up soon."  
  
Wayne watched as Brad walked towards Will and said something to him. The Major glanced along the row of recruits and then questioned them about Burnett's absence. None of them knew where she was. Wayne thought about it for a moment and then walked past the Major.  
  
"I'll look for her. I think I know where she is."  
  
"Hurry up, Staff Sergeant. She better be here in 15 minutes or I'll dock her time."  
  
Their gazes met brutally and Wayne did not look away until Will did. Then he jogged off towards the women's barracks. Instead of going inside, he veered around the building and stopped at the back. There was Burnett, sitting calmly on the ground, staring into the jungle. Her pack sat at her side. He walked towards her, preparing to dress her down for being late. He hesitated when he reached her side. She didn't look up at him although he had done nothing to walk quietly. She was sitting, with knees drawn up to her chest, arms locked around her shins.  
  
"You're late, Burnett. Get up and get your ass into gear."  
  
She didn't move. Her voice was soft and ... unsure when she spoke. "Do I really belong here, Staff?"  
  
"What?" He was taken aback by that and for a brief moment, didn't understand what she was saying.  
  
"Tell me the truth. Do you think I belong here?"  
  
He stared down at her for a long, silent moment. If she had asked him that at the beginning of this course, he would have told her absolutely not. Now?  
  
"When did you start caring about what anyone else thought?"  
  
"I don't know...sometimes I just think I don't belong here." She had an incredible look of indecision on her face as she glanced up at him finally. He hesitated in contemplation between shouting at her to stop feeling sorry for herself or to talk to her seriously. She didn't know who had sabotaged her climbing rope, but she knew something had happened to it. She had a right to some indecision, he decided.  
  
"Are you saying that because you really believe that or are you saying that because you think you should believe that?"  
  
Her brows drew together in thought, as if it was a new thought she hadn't seen before. She glanced at him as he lowered himself to his heels beside her.  
  
"People can fool you into thinking that you SHOULD feel a certain way about life...when in reality, you don't. Most people would strive for a lifestyle similar to the one you enjoyed before the Army. They can't and won't understand someone who's already from that lifestyle wanting or accepting...well...less."  
  
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" She asked quietly. "Accepting less?"  
  
"No. From experience I know you're finding more than you thought you ever would."  
  
Her gaze shifted to his in surprise. He met her eyes steadily.  
  
"But, you don't want me here." She stated.  
  
"I want what's best for the Army, Corporal. But I don't take anyone's word for it. I expect proof."  
  
A hidden hurt came into her eyes. "Sometimes proof doesn't matter. It's not enough to change some people's opinions."  
  
Wayne's jaw tensed and he fought the bitter anger growing within him at Will. He ran finger over the crimson scabs on his knuckles where he had punched the wall of the recon room. Her eyes followed the motion and she stared at the angry looking wound. He hesitated over his next words, but he was through playing nursemaid for today. She'd either get over it and get her rear off the ground or she could quit and go back to her unit...and disappoint him utterly in the process.  
  
"To tell you the truth, I didn't think you'd make it this far." He stated. That hidden hurt on her face morphed into anger, and he felt a wave of satisfaction. He'd rather see that anger there driving her then self-pity.  
  
"I know everyone just thinks I'm some rich bitch here trying to piss off daddy. And believe me...it has pissed him off royally! But I'm trying to find my own life here. My own path. I'm not just some typical rich girl who wants to shop all day and party all night. I want to have a purpose!"  
  
He wanted to tell her he understood, and that he wasn't an insufferable prick all the time. He wanted to commisserate with her. But once said, it seemed you couldn't avoid travelling further down that path. the destination pulled you like a ten ton magnet pulled a nail. He wasn't going to tempt fate and start down that path. And he wasn't going to put her on that path either. It would be betraying her and failing her in the biggest way possible.  
  
"Are you saying you're going to get up off your ass and finish this course?"  
  
"I'm going to get through this, Staff. Despite what anyone else thinks. And despite you!"  
  
She shot to her feet and grabbed her pack, slinging it onto her back and jogging off. He stood slowly and watched her. He had no doubt that she'd make it through this. With flying colors.  
  
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ONE YEAR LATER-  
  
Wayne glanced out the window of the small plane at the patchwork of fields and subdivisions below them. The steady drone of the plane's engines thrummed in his head and he shifted in his seat, running a hand over his nearly shorn scalp. His watch said they were nearing their destination. He'd soon be at his new base and entrenched in his new job.  
  
As the sole passenger except for the two pilots, he'd had ample time to himself. He glanced down at the book laying in the empty seat beside him, then picked it up. It had become dog-eared and well worn in the year since he had bought it at the Covert-Ops school's commissary store. He hadn't really read it much, he found Shakespeare too...tedious and cloying for his tastes. But he kept the book and took it out occasionally. He kept hoping that something would click in his mind while he read it, and that suddenly the events of a year ago would make sense and come into sharp focus for him. They never did.  
  
The final test had gone as planned. Corporal Burnett had taken her place among the recruits and all of the group had finished the course. She had actually done exceedingly well in the final. She had jumped into a leadership role and acted decisively and correctly. Somehow all that self- doubt had disappeared when the exercise had begun. He'd given her a solid evaluation that had been filtered through Will, so he didn't know how she had faired in the final test of brass. He was not told what happened to any of the soldiers who had completed the camp.  
  
He and Will had basically ignored each other the final three days. Will had left very soon afterwards without saying anything to him. Wayne had completed the final paperwork for the camp in his office at the Covert-Ops school and sent it all to him. There'd been no word since. He'd talked to Brad a couple of times, and even took leave to go hunting with him at his family's home on a reservation in Northern Wisconsin. He hadn't told Brad what happened between him and Will.  
  
Wayne thumbed through the book, glancing at it's pages. He wondered where Corporal Burnett had been transferred after the camp. He remembered the day after the three-day hell was done. She had approached him in the beer- hall as he sat alone, the soft lilt of her voice breaking through his dark mood.  
  
"Staff Sergeant?"  
  
He'd looked up at her in surprise. She'd smiled then, looking relaxed and comfortable. He'd not been able to return the smile with one of his own. She'd cleared her throat nervously then.  
  
"I uh...just wanted to thank you."  
  
"For what?" He'd asked, thinking of her doing push-ups in the pouring rain and gritting her teeth in irritation as he'd screamed at her on the trail. She had hesitated and then met his eyes.  
  
"You know what for. I might have given it all up when it counted most."  
  
He had muttered something about how she wouldn't have done that and she should have more faith in herself, and then she'd layed a hand on his forearm. He'd stilled and shut up.  
  
"Just...thanks."  
  
He'd almost told her everything then. Almost spilled every feeling from his heart in a shameful display of weakness. But he swallowed and held it in...and then, she was gone. Where, he didn't know. She'd gotten on a plane to her new assignment or to her old unit, and a few days later, he'd returned to his old position at the Covert-Ops school.  
  
The plane began making it's descent, and he shoved the book into his duffel bag. He looked out the window at the runway and the military base surrounding him. Looked like a typical base...even a little smaller than usual. Was this right?  
  
When the plane landed, he stood and stretched and picked his duffel up off the floor. With no other passengers or flight crew, he'd been able to ignore regulations and keep it with him. He walked off the plane onto the tarmac and saw a blond Master Sergeant approaching him. Wayne dropped the duffel and stood straight with grim respect for the higher ranking man.  
  
"Staff Sergeant Wayne Sneeden?" TheTop asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
The Master Sergeant grinned and held out his hand. "Welcome to G.I. Joe."  
  
TBC.............(one more chapter left, folks!)  
  
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	7. Retreat

A Good Soldier-- chapter 7  
  
By Slayne  
  
Notes- I feel I should state again, before you read this chapter, that this is Toon continuity! Please adjust your preceptions accordingly. Thanks to Robin for bringing me this idea and letting me turn it into my total characterization of Beach Head. Huge thanks to Scarlett_Hauser for fixing my typos all through this thing. She says it's nothing...but I think it's a bigger job then she lets on, lol!  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
Wayne brought the M-16 up and leveled the rifle against his shoulder. He took careful aim and slowly squeezed the trigger, releasing a few short, staccato three-round bursts of fire towards the target. He knew without looking where those rounds had hit. The corner of his mouth jerked upwards in smug satisfaction.  
  
"Beach Head...you're losing it! You hit him in the knee!" Gung-Ho crowed, pointing out at the target distantly in front of Wayne. Wayne winced a little at the codename. They'd given him a choice and it was the lesser evil of the list. He turned his head and raised a brow at the big Marine.  
  
"What are you talking about, Gung-Ho. I was aiming for his knee. Head shot is too easy!"  
  
Gung-Ho smirked slightly but shook his head and raised his own rifle. "You Army guys are so full of shit!"  
  
Wayne grinned despite himself. He watched the man fire and had to bite his tongue to keep from correcting the Marine's grip on the rifle. Gung-Ho was NOT open to 'helpful hints' on his shooting technique. Wayne had found that out the hard way during his first few weeks with G.I. Joe. A little constructive criticism had earned him a hard stare from the Cajun soldier. When Wayne had blithely ignored the warning signs, the Marine had thrown down the gun and pulled him into a headlock, wrestling him to the ground while swearing profusely at him in French. To add to his humiliation, one of the major bane's of his existence on this team, Shipwreck, had been nearby and had squatted next to them cheerfully translating the Marine's remarks that had questioned Wayne's parentage among other things. Wreck had learned a smattering of languages in his travels with the Navy and almost all of it was obscene. This incident had had to be repeated once more before Wayne had got the message and let Gung-Ho shoot any way he wished. But once he'd got it...they got along fine.  
  
Rank seemed to be ignored here for the most part, except among the command structure of the team. General Hawk had gone looking for a fourth-in- command among the enlisted ranks, wanting an infantry grunt instead of an officer. He'd found Wayne quickly and within weeks Wayne had been a member of the Joes. That was nearly two months ago.  
  
Wayne slung the rifle over his back and began walking away from the target range. There was a mission briefing in half an hour, and he was never late. As he walked by a Brawler parked in front of the HQ building, he glanced at it sidelong. He stopped. He backed up.  
  
"Shipwreck! Are you sleeping?" He barked loudly at the prone figure in the seat of the combat vehicle. The sailor barely moved.  
  
"Well, not anymore...thanks to you!"  
  
"Get the hell out of there! If you have nothing to do, I can put you to work!"  
  
Shipwreck sat up then and scowled at him. There was a squawk from the interior of the vehicle and a green parrot suddenly shot out and flew around Wayne's head. He swatted at it absently as if it were a mosquito and gritted his teeth. This whole damn unit was not what he expected it to be. What the hell was with all the pets?  
  
"I'm going, I'm going..." Wreck muttered, shoving his hat back up on his head and climbing out of the Brawler. Wayne watched him walk away and resisted the urge to take a potshot at the stupid bird flying over him. He was struggling with the lax view of the regulations on the team. The soldiers here were the best at what they did, but they could be so much better. Appearances, behavior, even training were not enforced in the same way they were in the normal Army ranks. This was supposed to be an elite fighting force, and he could make it so much better if General Hawk would give his ideas the time of day. Instead, every time he pointed out the shortcomings of this team to him, the General would get testy and eventually put him in his place.  
  
Wayne rarely bothered with Duke and Flint. Both of Hawk's next -in-command seemed to savor the freedom this team gave them and neither were very patient when he began one of his rants. In fact, while Duke often let him ramble on without comment, Flint had pulled rank on him several times much to Wayne's growing dislike. He hadn't worked with a lot of Warrant Officers during his career, but the mustangs were quickly making his shit list. Not as bad as Second Lieutenants but gaining ground. He was trying to help and improve this team. Why, exactly, could they not see that? Still...he had to admit, when the fighting was fierce, the soldiers here demonstrated exactly why they had been chosen. And even after a few short months here, his loyalty to Hawk was locked-in tight. He'd follow the General anywhere if asked. The man was exactly the kind of officer that Wayne loved: professional, direct, highly intelligent, sound, and very decisive.  
  
He walked into the HQ building and walked through the halls to the assigned briefing room. A figure hidden behind an open file came from a merging hallway as she read and ran into him. He glared briefly before she looked up in surprise and lowered the file. His glare softened.  
  
"Oh...Beach Head. I'm sorry!" Lady Jaye smiled a little guiltily at him and he felt his chest tighten.  
  
"It's alright." He said, lifting one corner of his mouth. He followed her into the briefing room. To say he had been shocked when he'd first been introduced to her the day after he'd reported for duty with the Joes would be an understatement. He'd been sitting in Hawk's office going over his duties with the General when a knock on the door had been followed by a woman's lilting, softly-accented voice.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Hawk...I didn't realize you were busy."  
  
"No, Jaye...come in. Meet our new Ranger."  
  
The voice had nearly prepared him, but not quite, for when the familiar form of Corporal Alison Hart-Burnett had stepped into the room and faced him. He had stood, speechless, as his gaze took her in. She was here? She was with the Joes? He was stunned. She appeared surprised too, her mouth dropping and her eyes widening a bit, but she recovered more gracefully than he did and offered her hand to him.  
  
"Staff Sergeant Sneeden. Nice to meet you again."  
  
He took her hand and gripped it tightly. "Corporal Burnett!"  
  
"Actually, it's Lady Jaye here." She smiled at him. He stared into her green eyes feeling a bit shell-shocked.  
  
"Uh...Beach Head." He replied with his own codename, nearly rolling his eyes at the sound of it.  
  
Hawk cut in then. "That camp you ran a year ago was to provide me with a list of possible additions to the Joes. Lady Jaye was my choice...and I've never regretted it." He smiled at Lady Jaye, and she looked embarrassed. Wayne had just stared at her, still not over his shock.  
  
That had been three months ago. He'd been pleased to know they'd be getting to know each other as teammates now. He was still an instructor, so to speak, with the team, but not in the same way it had been at the camp. She still faced her job with that same drive, but now she seemed to have a comfort and confidence that brought out more of her personality.  
  
She strove hard in his PT sessions, making comments about the impossibility of them with the others, but never complaining or whining about them. He dug into her when she lagged, but he also knew her capabilities and didn't feel as if he had to ride her as hard as the others. He had realized that he had an inherent trust in her that he didn't quite have with the others yet. Still...things hadn't quite gone as he had hoped. They didn't really get to know each other as well as he had thought they would.  
  
He chose a seat in the front and sat down to wait for the briefing to start. He looked back when he heard the light, soft sound of Lady Jaye's laughter. She sat off to the side, in her usual place as Hawk's Intel specialist. Flint stood beside her, one foot propped on the chair next to her, smiling down at her. Wayne felt a wave of irritation bite through him. Jaye and the Warrant Officer were often together and seemed close. Wayne was sure that was what had spawned the rumors of their intimate involvement, because he was sure it couldn't be true. She was directly under Flint's chain of command. A relationship could end both of their careers. She wouldn't risk all that hard work, would she? And if Flint was half the man everyone said he was, then he wouldn't put her at risk like that. But it was obvious the mustang was attracted to her, and, although they were professional in the field, there existed a comfortable companionship between them.  
  
Wayne ran a hand over his short brown hair and sighed heavily. Flint was a master at military tactics, and he could be incredibly hard-nosed and rigid when he wanted to be, but he was also arrogant and it sometimes took effort to deal with him. Wayne wasn't a wordsmith like Jaye. That kind of psychological effort and negotiating made him impatient and jumpy.  
  
Hawk arrived and finally started the meeting. Lady Jaye read the newest Intelligence information on Cobra and jumped in on Hawk's instruction when more information was needed. She was one of the few allowed to interrupt the General without a stern glare. When Flint started in with his own ideas and the current strategy for the team, Wayne fidgeted a bit. He and Flint often disagreed on strategy. Despite Flint's outstanding record with sound strategy, Wayne much preferred the head-on approach of an infantry attack. When the enemy stuck his head up, you slapped him down with a strong, swift stroke. Make him think long and hard before sticking his head up again. All this undercover creeping around and slow infiltration seemed like a waste of time. They knew who the enemy was, and they almost always knew where to find them. What was the hold up?  
  
He finally couldn't stand it anymore and stood and turned to face Flint. "No, no...we're just waiting around for them to do something again!" His deep southern accent seemed even more evident among these men who spoke with no regional dialect at all.  
  
"Beach Head." Flint warned him sharply that he was in no mood to argue with him today. Anger spiked through the Staff Sergeant.  
  
"We shouldn't be doing it this way! If I was in charge of..." He never got the rest out as Flint stiffened and snarled from across the room.  
  
"You're not in charge of this mission, Beach Head...I am!"  
  
Wayne bristled in return and barely held his tongue as he glared daggers at the other man. They squared off for a long moment before Flint ordered harshly.  
  
"Sit down, Beach Head!"  
  
It was almost more than Wayne could take. He glanced at Lady Jaye, who stood beside the Warrant Officer, and then the rest of the room, including the General, who stood silently observing but not interfering...yet. Wayne realized that simply by reason of rank, he'd have to stand down once again. He forced a retort back down his throat, but a low frustrated growl escaped anyway. He sat slowly back down, seething. He was quiet during the rest of the presentation, but every time the Warrant Officer spoke a new streak of irritation shot through him. At the end, Hawk hesitated almost wearily and reluctantly before taking a deep breath and voicing the final word.  
  
"Questions?"  
  
Wayne shot to his feet again and the rest of the room groaned in resignation. Wayne frowned slightly and ignored them.  
  
"I have a few, General."  
  
"Of course you do, Beach Head. Only a few this time?" Hawk sighed and smiled wryly. Flint glared darkly, but didn't seem surprised.  
  
By the time Wayne was satisfied with the answers he was given, it was nearly lunchtime, and Hawk dismissed them all for the meal. Most of the Joes ate in the mess hall for lunch. It was easier and more convenient and not really all that bad. As Wayne opened the door to go inside, a green blur flew out and dived at his head. He ducked instinctively and threw a hand up.  
  
"Shipwreck! Get this damn bird out of the mess hall before I skin it and roast it for my lunch!"  
  
Shipwreck came walking slowly towards the door, grinning at him. "Aw...you're the only one Polly doesn't like, Beach Head. Why don't you make nice with her?"  
  
The parrot suddenly dived the Ranger again and squawked. "If I were in charge, if I were in charge...brawwk!"  
  
Wayne reached for his combat knife with a growl, and Shipwreck grabbed his arm. "Alright, alright! Sorry, Staff! We're leaving anyway!"  
  
Wayne glared at the sailor as he left. If the guy wasn't so incredible in a fight, he'd have had his ass thrown off the team the very week after Wayne joined.  
  
He got his food and found an empty seat at the opposite end of the table where Lady Jaye and Flint sat talking animatedly. He glanced at them as he sat, receiving a faint smile of greeting from Jaye and a tight nod from Flint. Wet Suit and Deep Six sat across from him. They were quiet and intent on eating their lunch as usual. Wayne ate and listened to the couple. Were they...arguing? Their voices were energetic and a bit condescending as they talked to each other.  
  
"Oh please," came Flint's deep voice, sounding teasing. "Next you'll tell me that Hamlet is the basis for Star Wars!"  
  
"You know...you're such a shit sometimes, Mr. Fairebourne!"  
  
Wayne glanced at them and saw that Jaye was smiling broadly at Flint, her green eyes sparkling with laughter and enthusiasm for the argument. Another one of their mock debates that they engaged in so eagerly and the rest of the team was so used to. The Warrant Officer was highly educated and had a degree in Literature, of all things, which he used with delight during long conversations with the Intel Corporal. Wayne stirred his food and thought about the Shakespeare paperback that was standing neatly on his bookshelf in his quarters surrounded by Army field manuals and world history textbooks. He didn't care for fiction. Too unrealistic and useless. He enjoyed history immensely though, and thought that if he had gone to college, then he'd have majored in history. The interest and knowledge had even come in useful with the Joes a couple of times. But he'd never had a conversation like that with Lady Jaye about history or anything else, where she was looking at him with that enthusiasm and that sparkle. Come to think of it...he really hadn't had a conversation like that with anyone...except maybe Will. He dropped his spoon suddenly and stood. The rest of the table looked up in surprise as he took his half- full tray and threw it out. Then he left.  
  
He spent the remainder of the afternoon catching up on paperwork. He had been amazed at how much of it he was expected to do as Hawk's fourth. He had dreaded it at first, but then found he didn't mind it as much as he had thought he would. Anything that made the team run smoothly was necessary and satisfying. He made sure he was thorough, neat and prompt with the work and felt the same sense of pride in doing it well as he did with everything else.  
  
There was another short briefing in the late afternoon for the mission, which would begin that night. Wayne was basically on call for this one. He was included in the briefings, but his role would be in support here on base unless the primary team needed back up, then he'd fly out to help. Lady Jaye and Flint would be leading separate primary teams to two different areas of the globe, infiltrating two separate Cobra camps. The second briefing went smoother than the first and Hawk released them all for a few hours to prepare before the first team shipped out. Wayne hesitated as the rest began to slowly file out. He approached Lady Jaye.  
  
"Good luck, Lady Jaye. You know who to call if you need help." He wished he were going with her, but she had chosen a good team. She smiled at him and nodded slightly.  
  
"Thanks, Staff. You'll be the first to know if I do."  
  
They had talked some over the past few months, but had not gotten really personal with their conversation. They were teammates now instead of instructor/recruit, so Wayne had assumed that would change with time. It had a bit, but Wayne found it difficult to change old habits and approach her. The job came first, even it meant climbing all over her ass when she screwed up. She took it as stoically as she had before, but her comfort level on the team brought out more of her personality and she occasionally bit back, much to his surprise. She was seeing them on more of an equal footing now, and it shook him a bit, but not for long. She was a damn good soldier, and he was willing to help make her better.  
  
He walked from the room after the small exchange, ready to hit the firing range for an hour before evening mess, when he swore softly and turned around sharply. He'd forgotten to pick up the updated codes list on his way out. He strode back to the briefing room and jerked the door open, stepping inside again. He froze.  
  
Lady Jaye and Flint were the only two left in the room, and they were locked in a tight embrace, their mouths fused in a passionate kiss. Wayne stood there stunned for a long moment. The couple didn't notice him at first, too involved in each other. He must have made some sort of sound then, because Flint jerked back from the female Corporal and his eyes flew to the Staff Sergeant in the doorway.  
  
"Jesus...Beach Head..."  
  
Lady Jaye turned as well and a soft gasp escaped her throat. Her green eyes met Wayne's brown ones and she suddenly looked a bit frightened. He held her gaze for a moment in disbelief and then reached forward and took the paper list from the table that he had come back for. He said nothing as he turned and walked back out the door.  
  
His brain was roaring as he walked. So the rumors were true. She was involved with Flint. At the very least, they were sleeping together anyway. You didn't kiss someone like that unless you were very intimate. How had he not seen it all beforehand? Or had he? His body and mind were a mix of emotions: Disbelief, anger, hurt and jealousy. He should have known by the way the Warrant Officer slid into jealous fits every time Jaye talked to him or one of the other guys. When Wayne had first arrived here, she'd had lunch with him one day to catch up and talk about the Covert-Ops camp. Flint had fumed and shot him dark glares throughout the entire meal. He'd seen Jaye talking quietly to the mustang afterwards, but the glare in his eyes as Wayne had walked past had been as loud a declaration as you could get. Hands off! Mine! Wayne had thought the W.O. was just attracted to Burnett and being childish about it. Apparently not.  
  
"Beach Head!" Flint's voice barked after him down the hall, and Wayne hesitated and then turned to wait as the man came after him.  
  
"What is it, Chief?" Wayne ground out in slight condescension as resentment threaded its way through his mind. Flint stopped a few feet away from him and his expression grew grim.  
  
"You weren't supposed to see that...no one was."  
  
"Obviously."  
  
Flint hesitated, clearly trying to pick his words carefully. His glance moved nervously up and down the hall to insure they were alone.  
  
"Alison and I...we have a lot in common. We get along well." Flint sighed. "More than well, as I'm sure you're aware."  
  
Wayne flinched when the other man spoke Jaye's real name. He gritted his teeth. "With all due respect, Chief...it's a conflict of interest. The regulations are pretty clear about fraternization."  
  
Flint's jaw tightened and he became steely-eyed. "Look, it's different here. Relationships are hard to find and harder to keep. We keep it professional when we have to, it's not a big deal."  
  
"I wonder if General Flagg would think it's not such a big deal."  
  
The Warrant Officer stilled and his eyes met Wayne's. Wayne tightened his jaw and stared right back.  
  
"You son of a bitch!" Flint suddenly flew forward and grabbed him by the shirt, shoving him backwards and slamming him into the wall. Wayne grabbed the wrists of the hands gripping his shirt and blinked as his head connected with the drywall in a dull thud of pain. He fought it off and glared right back at the furious Warrant Officer.  
  
"You'd go over Hawk's head like that?" Flint asked with a snarl. "You'd throw away two good careers and cripple this team just to get me out of the way?"  
  
For a moment, Wayne thought that the man knew everything. Every intimate thought or dream he'd ever had about Alison Hart-Burnett. But then his words really sank in. Two good careers. Flint's sure...but Lady Jaye's too.  
  
"What the hell's your problem with me, Staff Sergeant?" Flint growled. Wayne just glared silently at him. Running footsteps sounded in the hall and suddenly Lady Jaye appeared at their side. Her hand went instantly to Flint's arm.  
  
"Flint! For god's sake... let him go!" She looked worriedly at the two men whose gazes were locked together furiously.  
  
"He threatened to go over Hawk's head and tell General Flagg about us." Flint said. Lady Jaye looked surprised, and she glanced at Wayne. He met her eyes briefly and then looked away. He had an awful feeling in his gut and it had nothing to do with the raging Warrant Officer in front of him. Lady Jaye pulled at Flint's hands.  
  
"Let him go, Dash. He has to make his own decision...just like we did. You can't change his mind like this." Her voice was soft and held that same confidence that Wayne had come to know so well from the camp. Flint swallowed and glanced at her briefly before loosening his hands and letting Wayne rip away from him. They looked at each other in silence. Wayne watched as Jaye put a comforting hand on Flint's shoulder. That awful feeling in his gut intensified and he turned abruptly and walked away.  
  
He got outside and into the twilight, walking towards his quarters, when Taps began playing for the lowering of the base flag. He had to stop and turn towards it to salute. He saw Lady Jaye a few yards behind him. No Flint. She had also stopped to turn and salute, and their gazes met briefly before they looked towards the distant flag. For the first time in his career, Wayne's mind was a million miles away from that patriotic ritual.  
  
When it was over, he stood quietly and let her catch up. She stood in front of him and said nothing for a moment. He didn't trust himself to speak so he remained quiet, waiting for her.  
  
"Well...this is a bit awkward." She finally said softly as he stared down at her.  
  
"Does Hawk know?" He asked.  
  
"He...suspects, I think. He hasn't said anything yet, and I think he's overlooking it as long as we keep it discreet and act professionally on duty."  
  
Wayne nodded, realizing that it was probably an accurate theory. "You're putting all that hard work at the camp on the line, do you realize that?"  
  
She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Look, Staff. You and I have sort of a history together. A rocky one, but it's there...otherwise I wouldn't even be admitting any of this, but Dash and I...it's different between us. It's not just a fling like the jokes and rumors portray."  
  
"He's putting you at risk!" Wayne protested. His voice sounded pleading, even to him. Her eyes widened a bit and her eyes met his. Wayne had the feeling that his face was giving everything away. He wished he could grab the balaclava from his belt and pull it on before he said another word.  
  
"But he's not putting me there alone! He's risking everything right beside me, Beach Head. Maybe he's even risking more..."  
  
Wayne stared at her, speechless. Understanding was dawning in his mind.  
  
"And maybe that's what I need. Maybe it's what I want. Someone willing to risk everything on me. He's willing to..." She searched for a workable euphemism and shrugged her shoulders. "Color outside of the lines, I guess. When you find something that works like that, you risk a lot for it."  
  
Wayne stared at the building behind her, his chest feeling tight and heavy. He said nothing.  
  
"I don't expect you or anyone else to understand." She continued. "I have a lot of respect for you, Staff. You're a good soldier. I'd never prevent you from doing what you think is right...but..."  
  
"No one will hear it from me." He said suddenly. She seemed to relax a little, her shoulder losing their tenseness.  
  
"Thanks again, Staff. You have a habit of saving my ass when I need it most."  
  
Wayne had to force his words from his throat. "You'd better get your ass in gear, Corporal. You've got a mission to complete."  
  
She smiled. "Yes. Well, then...I'd better get back to double-check my gear. Someone once taught me a lesson about that. I never forgot it. It's a ritual with me now."  
  
Wayne forced a corner of his mouth up in a faint smile. His eyes slid down to hold hers. "You belong on this team. If you're forced off...it's not going to be me who does it."  
  
"Thank you." She said it sincerely and quietly, and then turned and walked away.  
  
Wayne stood there, silently. He stared, unseeing, straight ahead for a long, long moment. 'Maybe that's what I need...someone willing to risk everything.' It echoed in his mind.  
  
Slowly and deliberately, he pulled the green mask from his belt and pulled it over his head. Its comforting walls surrounded him and put the rest of the world where it belonged.at a distance. And that's where it would stay from now on. He turned on his heel and walked, ramrod straight, back towards the mission control room. There was a mission going out tonight, and he had a job to do. And he'd do it well.  
  
END  
  
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A huge thanks to all of you who read and gave me all those awesome reviews! 


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